


Eyes Wide Open but My Mouth's Bound Shut

by Liz2010



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Chronic Illness, College Student Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Smut, Hurt Derek, Hurt Stiles, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Police Officer Derek Hale, Seizures, Slow Burn, Spark Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2020-12-16 14:23:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liz2010/pseuds/Liz2010
Summary: The first time Derek met Stiles, he almost killed him.All Derek wants is to make Beacon Hills a better place for the supernatural community, and to be the best officer he can be. But when he meet's Stiles, suddenly he wants more. No matter the cost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As always, not beta read and all mistakes are my own. I own nothing, never have and never will.

The first time Derek met Stiles, he almost killed him. 

Not on purpose, of course. Derek had been on shift, patrolling a rather dull cul-de-sac in the middle of the night. The kid had walked right into the street, heedless of the cruiser headed directly for him. Only Derek’s lighting fast reflexes saved him, slamming on the breaks and jerking the wheel to the side, the headlights illuminating the kid lumbering in the middle of the road. 

Derek jumped out of the car, eyes scanning the darkness for danger, but only seeing the rows of cookie cutter houses, their occupants all fast asleep. That and the kid, who was still standing in the road, swaying slightly, but making no attempt to move, barefoot but dressed in jeans and a hoodie. 

Derek took a step forward, cautiously. He sniffed the air, smelling for anything out of the ordinary. It smelled sharp, like ozone, like rain was on the way, though the sky was clear. Nothing else stood out.

The kid himself looked harmless, but that didn’t mean he was. The most dangerous monsters looked innocent. Though the semi-vacant expression, thin, sharp cheekbones, and general lack of body fat, suggested that Derek was by far the larger predator. 

The kid smelled, as Derek moved closer still sniffing the air, like drugs and humanity, which explained the expression. Something heavy, definitely a downer, but Derek couldn’t ID it. He took another step, one hand outstretched, the other on the holster of his gun, prepared for anything.

“Are you alright?” Derek kept his voice steady and calm, not wanting to spook the kid.

The kid turned to face him, face still blank, and eyes wide in the dark. He was cute, with moles scattered on his pale skin and a slightly upturned nose. His foggy eyes almost looked the golden color of a beta wolf as they shone in the headlights. If he didn’t look so sick, he would be beautiful. Hell, even sick, he was gorgeous, but so brittle and so vulnerable it almost hurt. 

“What’s your name? Do you have an ID?” Derek took a step closer, completely sure now that the human was of no danger to him. 

The kid still didn’t speak, but blinked a few times, like he was confused by what Derek was saying.

“Como te llamas?” Derek tried Spanish, but still only to a blank face, though the human’s scent was starting to become more potent, the bitter scent of nerves coming out from behind his slack face. 

“Fuck.” Derek swore so quietly no human would be able to hear it. He should really call this in. The kid probably needed medical attention. But he hated to get him into trouble over drugs, or whatever. Kids made mistakes, but lives didn’t need to be ruined over it, not if no one had gotten hurt. It had nothing to do with the wolf inside him, howling at him to protect this kid.

He should to see if there was an emergency contact. Someone who could get him off the street and get him the help he needed, not throw him in jail. 

“Alright kid.” Derek moved slow. “I’m going to reach in your pockets, see if I can find your ID. There’s nothing in them that’s going to hurt me, right?”

No answer, but at this point, Derek didn’t expect one. He found the wallet in the back jean pocket, laying it on the hood of the cruiser as he continued to search. The other pocket contained a pill bottle full of something called Zarontin. Derek frowned, not recognizing the name or the smell. The pocket of his hoodie had a plastic baggie with pills in it as well. 

Derek frowned harder, recognizing these. A quick sniff conformed it. Mountain ash. 

He should really call it in. He didn’t know about Zarontin, but mountain ash was a controlled substance, though it generally wasn’t sold in pill form.

There was no cell phone for contact information. Instead, he opened the wallet. There was a bit of cash, and library card with no name. Finally, in a back flap, he found the ID. It was a state ID, not a driver’s license. Interesting. He pulled it out reading it carefully. 

Stiles Nowak. Age 19 but with a birthday coming up. Classification-human. Safely color-yellow. Control level- 3.

Yellow. Level 3. Shit. Derek took a step back, hand on his silver lined cuffs. 

ID’s had gotten more detailed since the introduction of the supernatural to the general population, nearly fifteen years ago now. There had been a lot of fear and hate in the beginning, on both sides. The ID’s had been a compromise to the original idea of forcing supernatural to all wear badges on their clothes. 

Everyone’s classification was listed and could be requested at any time by an officer of the law. The safety color had to do with an individual’s abilities, not their species. Red, yellow and green, all based off how much damage they could do to a human and assigned by a council at sixteen, though it was reviewed every two years to make sure no one changed categories. 

Most human’s and humanoid types were green. Werewolves, centaurs, vampires, every type of fae, just to name a few, were all listed as yellow. Only a few creatures were classified as red, though that did include alpha werewolves.

But colors didn’t really mean anything, only how much potential was there. The real issue was the control level. It was a scale of how well any creature had control of their powers, with one being perfect control and 5 being dangerous, to the point of being locked up. Lots of supernaturals said it wasn’t fair, because humans were automatically set at one, no matter if they were inclined to violence or not. 

Derek was a beta werewolf, yellow, level one and proud of his perfect control. Out of his pack, only his mother also had a level one classification. 

If this kid, if Stiles, was a yellow level 3, he was something. Probably a magic user of some sort, a witch or mage and one with shaky control. If he was a level 4, he would have to wear a monitor. If he was a five, he would be on house containment or in an institute.

He was going to call it in. 

“Sir, please put your hands on the hood of the car.” 

Stiles, who eyes had cleared up at some point during Derek’s internal freak out, looked confused but obeyed. 

“What’s the nature of your abilities?”

“You can’t ask me that.” Derek blink, surprised by the fact that he spoke as much as the answer.

He was right. Suspects were under no requirement to divulge their abilities unless they were officially charged, though he was surprised the kid knew that. Most people didn’t.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Yes.” 

Derek had one cuff on, when another teenage came running down the sidewalk, looking frantic and dressed in PJ’s. He was wheezing and carrying extra shoes. 

“Stop.” It was probably suppose to be a shout, but it was more of a whine. 

Derek finished the cuffs but didn’t put Stiles in the back of his car as the new teen finally made it to the car.

“You can’t arrest him. He didn’t do anything wrong.” The other teen looked outraged, at least as well as he could panting for breath, hands on his knees. 

“He is carrying controlled substances.”

“Well, yeah.” He took an inhaler out of his pocket and took a puff. “He has a permit.”

“What’s your name?” 

“Scott McCall.” The teen held out his ID out without being prompted. It was driver’s license, classifying him as a harmless little green level one human. The address on it was the same as Stiles. 

“He’s my brother.” Scott supplied helpfully. “Where’s his wallet?”

Derek gestured to the hood where it still sat. “You have different last names.”

Scott just shrugged, then went through the wallet, pulling open an inside pocket Derek didn’t even see, and presenting a permit to carry mountain ash, up to ten ounces. Stiles had been carrying three, tops. 

Derek unlocked the cuffs reluctantly. The whole situation felt off to him, like he as missing something. 

As soon as Stiles was free, he crossed over to Scott, who wrapped his brother in a tight hug. Stiles snuggled into his neck in a wolflike manner, as Scott bent down and pushed the shoes on Stiles’ bare feet. 

“Why was he in the road?”

“I have episodes sometimes.” Stiles answered voice muffled by Scott’s neck, but not slurred. His scent was becoming sharper, fuller, smelling more of paper, ink, and cinnamon and less of chemicals and ozone. 

Scott was a little more helpful. “He sleepwalks. I usually wake up if he leaves the room, but tonight he was sneaky. It normally doesn’t matter. There isn’t any traffic around here this time of night and he tends to wander back home.”

Derek didn’t like it. Stiles clearly wasn’t well. He shouldn’t be wandering around at night. The wolf in his chest bristled at the idea. 

“Well do better next time. I don’t want to see him out again.”

Scott nodded, leading a pliant Stiles to the sidewalk. Derek got back in his car, hoping the rest of his shift was exciting enough he wouldn’t have time to think about those soft brown eyes. 

\-------

It wasn’t. He was called back to the station shortly after meeting Stiles and Scott to find his desk piled with the paperwork the other deputies didn’t want to do. 

Derek growled softly as he worked on it. He wanted to call speciest bullshit on being treated like this. He always got the worst shifts, the worst patrols, and all the grunt work. He didn’t become a cop to be treated like shit. He became a cop to help people. 

But, then again, he wasn’t sure it was all because he was a werewolf, because he was a ‘sup’. Jordan Parish, his direct supervisor and head of the supernatural of the department, wasn’t treated poorly even though he was a hellhound, which was way more interesting than a werewolf. He was respected by everyone, in fact. It was probably just because Derek was new. He was fresh out of the academy and only had two weeks on the job. 

He had been hired as part of a push to be more inclusive of the supernatural in public servant jobs. There weren’t many in the department. Besides him and Parish, there was only three other sups on the force; a half ogre named Greenburg who sucked way worse than Derek, a half fae named Claire who didn’t actually have any increased abilities, and an almost ready to retire selkie, Randy, who was incredibly strong, but had no increased healing factor. 

There were also a couple of consultants who worked with the police, though weren’t actually cops. So far, Derek had only met Lydia, a terrifying banshee who had more confidence in her little finger than Derek did in his whole body, but he knew there were several more. Sups tended to prefer a little distance from the cops. Too many of them had been treated unfairly in the past, but Beacon Hills was fighting to change that. Starting with Derek. 

It was a start. The public had to learn that wolves were people too. And what better way to show that, then by working in his hometown to make it a safer place.

His mom and the rest of the pack had been happy to have him back, after his college days in New York. He had learned a lot and had many good life experiences, but he had missed them all. A wolf isn’t meant to live without its pack.

He grabbed another cup of bitter coffee, refilling the pot as he finished it up, then went back to his desk, paperwork finished. He looked at his computer, mind wandering dangerously. 

Stiles Nowak wasn’t a common name. One little search, and he could learn a lot more about him. It wasn’t exactly legal, since he didn’t arrest the kid, but how could it hurt. No one would know. He should double check. Make sure that Scott really was his brother, that he would take care of Stiles. 

Mind made up, he began to type, but before he could hit enter, a hand slammed down on the desk, making him jump. 

“Damn it Laura.” He growled, looking up at his sister who was way too cheerful for five in the morning. 

“Now, now, is that anyway to talk to your sister who comes baring breakfast?”

She plopped a still warm homemade muffin on his desk. Derek tore into it like a, well, wolf. 

“I take it back. You’re a saint.”

She smiled and tossed her hair. “You know it.”

Laura was his older sister and also worked with the public, as a nurse in the ER. The difference was, no one there knew she was a wolf, expect a few friends and her supervisors. They had more of a don’t ask, don’t tell policy than the department. Everyone here knew exactly what Derek was. 

“As much as I appreciate breakfast and some halfway decent coffee,” he took the cup from her hand, ignoring the playful snarl and making a face at the sweetness of the camel she always added, “I know you aren’t here just for a visit.” 

Laura made a face and stole her coffee right back. “It’s Cora.”

Of course it was. He should have known. The youngest Hale was always getting into some sort of trouble. She was aggressive, though kind, but never thought ahead. She hadn’t come back from school yet, even though the spring semester ended three days ago. Normal she was one of the most tactile and clingy of the pack. If she wasn’t home yet, he should have known something was up.

“What did she do and why can’t we let Mom handle it?”

“She got arrested.”

“Fuck!” Derek swore loud enough that even the sleepy remains of the night shift looked up. “What the hell?” Derek amended more quietly, glaring at the officers until they looked away from what was clearly a private family discussion.

“There was some sort of sup/human sit in the last day of school. It was non-violent, according to all the media outlet, but all the sups got arrested anyway. They have had everyone in holding the past two days. She was just now allowed to call. She sounded really freaked out and begged me not to tell Mom.”

Derek was trying not to panic. Jail wasn’t a good place for wolves. General population was bad enough, the cells lined with wolfsbane that burned if a wolf even brushed against it. But they also had special cells for wolves, cells that blocked all scent and sound and weakened the pull of the pack bonds. It was like being in a vacuum. There were reports of wolves going ferial in only a few days. 

“I can’t get her out Laura.” He tried to keep the fear out of his voice. “I’m brand new. I don’t have that kind of power. I might be able to get Parish to talk to the Sheriff but even he won’t have much pull in LA.” 

If the Sheriff even listened. Sheriff Berns was a dick. Derek didn’t know where the department’s idea to start incorporating sups into the force came from, but it wasn’t from him.

Laura put his hand over his, where it was now crushing the poor muffin to crumbs. “You don’t have to. I don’t want you to risk your job and neither does she. I just want you to ride with Uncle Peter while he goes to arrange bail.”

Uncle Peter was the reason Derek always said danger came in pretty packages. He was one of the most attractive wolves, hell most attractive people, around. He hair was always prefect; his swagger made all the ladies and gentleman pant after him. His fashion sense was divine and, of course, he was rich. He was the perfect catch, which was funny because he was singe as single could be. After an affair that left him with a daughter when he was only eighteen, he had no intention of settling down. Malia was the only person he truly cared about it. 

He was the most ruthless person Derek had ever met. He was a fierce wolf, fighting with both strength and brains, doing whatever it took to win. He was Talia’s left hand in every way. He was also a lawyer and not just any lawyer. He was one of the best prosecutors in the State. He fought bigotry in every way and Derek was glad he was on the side of the pack, though sometimes he got the feeling that if the opportunity arose, that wouldn’t be the case. 

“You want me to ride with Peter. All the way to LA. While he is furious at Cora.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Derek.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Why can’t you?”

Laura’s eyes were wide, and she was practically pouting. “Because I have to work, and I couldn’t get anyone to cover my shift. You're off today and I know you don’t work tomorrow night.”

Derek signed, knowing he was going to do it. “Please tell me Cora didn’t drag Malia into it.” The girls were only a year apart and in the same year of school. They fought like siblings but protected each other fiercely as well. 

Laura smiled. “Apparently Malia ran as soon as the arrests started. Then proceeded to spend the next two days gathering as much media attention on the arrests as she could. So, Peter is both pissed and proud.”

Derek rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired. It had been a long night and wanted to go to bed. Maybe he could catch a little nap before the terrible car ride, if Peter wasn’t expecting him yet. Generally, inmates couldn’t post bail until a certain time of day, anyway, so being there early wasn’t going to get Cora out any faster.

“When do we have to leave?”

“Right now.” Peter popped up next to his desk from nowhere like the creeper he was. Derek jumped and Peter rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

\-----

Derek made Peter stop by the house so he could change. He wasn’t about to roll up in another district wearing his uniform. They would think he was trying to throw around his weight and that was the last thing he wanted. 

That was the last concession Peter made for him. Once they were on the highway, Peter drove like a man possessed. He wouldn’t even stop from breakfast or coffee on the way out of town and with the way his hands creaked around the steering wheel, Derek wasn’t about to ask again. 

They found the jail the protesters were being held at easily. Malia was there waiting, and Peter wrapped his up in a hug, then snarled at her to stay with Derek while he fixed their stupid mistake. After that, Derek got to sit back and watch Peter work his magic. It took most of the day, but in the end, Cora was released with twenty hours of community service that could be served in Beacon Hills and no mark on her record. 

Derek hugged Cora for ten minutes straight, his nose burning with the smell of metal and others on her skin. He ignored Peter’s huff but smiled when Malia wrapped her arms around both of them, trying to cover the stink with the smell of pack. 

“I’m fine Derek.” Cora said. “They didn’t but me in solitary or anything. I’m okay.”

Derek didn’t say anything. Instead he relished the feel of his little sister safe in his arms. 

Peter rubbed a hand over Cora’s shoulder and through her hair, the most affectionate he ever was with anyone besides his daughter, and for a moment, everything felt alright.

\-----

They stopped at the girl’s dorm to get their stuff, only to find most of it gone. What was left was destroyed. Cora looked sad, as she picked up her books with the covers torn off and the broken picture frames. Malia looked angry and argued with the RA’s about having to pay for the damages. Peter stepped in when his daughter’s eyes flashed gold, promising not only would they not being paying damages, but that the college would end up paying for the lost possessions. The poor RA ran to get a supervisor, who quickly agreed with the angry werewolf. But Peter was fuming by the time they left, angry at the school for letting it happen in the first place. 

Derek waited until they stopped for an early supper and were back on the road with reasonable blood sugars before he launched into big brother mode. 

“So, what exactly were you thinking, getting mixed up with protesters?”

Cora had the decently to look ashamed, but met his eyes, as he twisted around to look at the girls from the front seat.

“I thought I was standing up for my people Derek.”

“Standing up? By marching on the campus? You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt. Riot police are issued wolfsbane laced pepper spray, you know.”

Malia stepped in. “You don’t know what it was like on campus. Someone leaked the names of all the sups enrolled. It was awful. We were being taunted in all the time. Even the half borns, the one who don’t even have abilities, were being targeted. We had to help them.”

“By getting arrested?”

“It was a peaceful protest. Cora never should have been arrested.”

“That’s not what the cops said.”

Cora snapped back in. “Of course, you would take their side. Perfect Derek and his perfect cops.”

Derek’s eyes flashed blue at her. “It’s not about sides. It’s about safely. Your safety. If things were getting bad on campus, you should have let us know.”

“Yeah, so you could rub it in my face how you could handle New York while I can’t even handle LA.”

Derek snarled, his anger getting the best of him. Both girl’s eyes flashed in return, and Malia began to growl. 

“Enough!” Peter’s voice was dangerously calm. “Cora, you were stupid to not tell the pack what was going on. Pack watches out for pack. You were also stupid for getting arrested. It looks bad on all of us, when one wolf does something like that. People will say the Hale pack is out of control, and you know how bad that could be. Malia, you were stupid for not telling me what happened the fucking second the police showed up, though I am proud of you for not getting caught. And Derek, just shut up.”

It was quiet for the rest of the drive, until Beacon Hills was in sight. 

“You’re not going to tell Mom, are you?” Cora asked, sounding eight years old again.

Derek sighed, but shook his head. He wouldn’t tell unless she directly asked. Then, well he could never go against his alpha directly. 

“You’re damn right I am.” Peter looked downright cheerful at the idea, like it was the best thing to come out of all of this. “I would have told her the second I found out what happened, but I was worried she would go to the station and rip out throats.”

Talia would too, if she thought Cora had been hurt. She was a wonderful person, strong and diplomatic, which served her well as the alpha as well as being a lobbyist for supernatural rights, mostly on a state level. But, when it came to her children, she was dangerous. 

They pulled into the Hale house and Derek braced himself for a long night. The boy he had almost hit was officially the furthest thing from his mind. 

\-----

Talia smelled jail on Cora the second she walked in. She reacted just like Derek thought she would, wrapping her youngest in a huge hug while screaming at her for not calling her first. The yelling didn’t last long, though, and ended with another group hug. 

Derek didn’t stay downstairs for Cora’s explanation. He had heard enough in the car. Whoever had leaked the identities of the sups should be found and punished, but it was unlikely that it would. Clearly, interspecies relations still weren’t going well in the cities. He suspected as much both from the news and the police reports that came across his desk. But it wasn’t his fight. His fight was Beacon Hills. 

He got Cora’s involvement too. People, sups and humans alike were important to her. They were important to him too, hence the whole cop things. But, if it came down to strangers or even friends, and pack, it would be pack every time. 

He had figured it out when he was sixteen. Hopefully Cora would get it soon. Before she had to face the same sort of tragedy he did. 

Derek fell into be in his bed grateful to finally, finally, be laying down, the soft smell of ‘home’ filling his nose and letting him relax after the events of the day.

The guys at the station liked to give him shit for still living at home, but they didn’t understand pack. It was possible for wolves to live apart in separate houses, but they would never be fully relaxed until they were safe at the den. The Hale pack was small, but strong. A good portion of it stemmed from how close they were physically as well as emotionally. 

Laura still lived at home. Cora and Malia came home from college ever chance they got to sleep in their own beds. Even Peter had a room, though he split time with his apartment downtown next to his law firm. 

Derek had been asleep for only a few minutes when the warmth of a body curling up next to him woke him. He didn’t have to open his eyes to know it was Cora. She smelled upset, and he pulled her close, making comforting noises as she finally broke down to tears. Moments later, his door opened again and Laura came in, slipping in behind him.  
His older sister didn’t speak until Cora had drifted off, exhausted by her tears. “Rough day huh?”

“The worst.”

“Mom doesn’t want them to go back next year. Peter and she were arguing about it when I got home.”

Derek surprised himself by saying “She shouldn’t go.”

“Why?”

It was times like this, when Laura used that questioning but interested tone of voice that Derek was reminded of how good of an alpha his sister would be one day. “Because. Because it feels wrong out there.”

“Wrong?” Laura was getting tense. 

“Electric. Like a storm is coming. The people on campus, they genuinely hated Cora, just because she was a wolf. I think things are going to get bad again.”

They were both quiet and he knew they were both thinking of all the things lost in the Riots, the things lost after them as well. Of how both their careers would be tanked if supernatural were prosecuted again. Of how quickly even the strongest pack could fall, when attacked by humans with the right kind of power. 

“There is no point borrowing trouble. We will deal with it when it come. Relax. Go to sleep pup.”

Derek wished it were that simple. That he could let tomorrow come without any worries. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t relax when there was so much danger gathering so close.

For now, he had to satisfy himself with the comfort of his sibling around him and the smell of pack in the air.

\------

The next evening, Derek rushed through his normal pile of paperwork, too distracted to be annoyed by how much of it wasn’t his. 

As soon as it was done, he started pulling up reports. It wasn’t as bad as he feared. There were tons of reports of violence against sups, werewolves in particular, which he expected. The Accords after the Riots had calmed things down, but it hadn’t fixed all the problems. Still, according to the statistics, the amount of sup/human incidences were actually going down across most of the county. 

They only exception seemed to be in college towns and a few other more liberal cities. Which didn’t make any sense. The more liberal the city, generally the more accepting the supernatural population. They should have less incidences. 

Derek found the answer on a rather conspiracy ridden website. The website blamed it primarily on one faction. The Humans for Freedom Faction. HFF. Every city that had a large presence of the HFF had higher than average violence rates across the board. Of course, the next article was on how aliens would soon be visiting the President, so Derek took it with a grain of salt.

Derek narrowed his search to just the HFF. It took some digging, but Derek managed to find a pretty good amount of information on them, from more credible sources.

They were a hate group masquerading as a club on campuses. They claimed they wanted freedom from the “oppressive laws” the Accords had brought about, like the increased information on ID’s and the creation of the Councils, that monitored all supernatural people and humans alike, to make sure no one was hiding powers or lying about them.

In reality they just wanted humans to be free from the restriction because they wanted all sups to be taken out of society. By segregation or death, they didn’t seem picky.

And on every campus across the country that had a strong HFF presence, there were increased reports of supernatural violence. He wondered how much of it was provoked. Or even being staged by the HFF.

Derek was getting ready to dig into how much of what happened on Cora’s campus was fueled by the HFF, they had a strong presence all across California as it seemed to be the birthplace of the movement though he couldn’t get an answer about who founded it, when Parish sat down, making him jump slightly. He really needed to start paying more attention to his surroundings, but he spent so much time with the other man that his automatically associated his scent with safety. 

Parish raised his eyebrows at the jump. “Quite a pile of info you’ve got going there.”

Derek fought to keep on his normal impassive face. He didn’t like to give any of his coworkers any chance to find out anything personal. It was safer that way. “My work is done. I’m working on a report to pass on to the LA police.”

“I’m sure it is. That’s not why I came over here.” 

“Why did you come over here?”

Parish’s eye narrowed slightly at the tone. Derek tried to look apologetic. He like Parish. He was a good cop and a good man. They got along well, on the rare occasions they got to ride together. Berns like to have the sups ride alone. Said they didn’t need backup.

“Berns wanted to list Cora’s name in the paper for her arrest. Said it should be public knowledge, even though it didn’t happen in the county.”

Shit. Peter was right. This would look bad on the whole pack, on the supernatural community in general. Derek felt the familiar anger in his gut. It wasn’t fair to put that kind of pressure on a college student. She was trying to help. That is all Cora ever wanted to do.

“I told him that it was discrimination. I wouldn’t allow it. If people want to know, they can look it up in the LA papers.”

“Can you do that?”

Parish smiled like he had a secret. “I have some connections. It would never make it to publishing.”

Derek was surprised. “Thank you. The Hale pack is in your debit.”

“No, you aren’t. I did it for everyone. None of us need that kind of bad press. Besides, I did some digging of my own. Cora didn’t do anything wrong. Not really.”

Derek wondered if he had the same reports on the HFF that he did. He didn’t quite trust the man enough to ask. Not yet.

“So, consider this your warning. Berns is about to make your life a nightmare. Be prepared for the worst duties and the worst hours. I’ll do my best, but I can’t fight every one of his decisions.”

Derek nodded his understanding. “I’ll have Laura and Cora bring you some cookies, as a thanks. It’s the least we can do.”

Parish’s scent sweetened at the mention of the cookies and he flushed slightly, before he went back to his own desk. 

\------

A few days went by. Cora started her community service, in the form of trash pickup by the side of the highway and Malia got a job at a local restaurant. Derek tried to do his job, reminding himself that he wanted to be a cop. That he wanted to help people. But, it was hard, considering what an asswipe he had for a boss.

Berns kept him on night shift, no surprise. The policy was to have one sup on every shift as best they could and as the rookie, Derek got nights. Which was fine. He was a little nocturnal anyway, with the whole werewolf thing, and his sleep schedule adjusted easily enough.

But he was always on patrol in the most boring neighborhoods, never seeing anything interesting. Or he ran sobriety stops, where he dealt with angry sober people and belligerent drunks. And more paperwork than ever was added to his stack, with more and more reports being handed back to him as incorrect, so he had to them all over again. 

It was enough to drive him crazy. Berns knew it too. He would sit in his office, smirking as Derek stayed late shift after shift, fixing the so-called errors. 

He didn’t do much more digging on the HFF. Cora and Malia wouldn’t be going back to school in LA, so it didn’t seem to matter. They weren’t happy about it, but Talia and Peter had put their feet down. The girls would have to find another school, through Talia didn’t really want them to leave Beacon Hills at all.

Derek felt bad, but not bad enough to try to convince his mom of any different. Besides, he had his own problems. 

\-----

Derek didn’t see Stiles out of the streets again, thankfully, though he thought he caught a glimpse of the kid a few times around town. But Beacon Hills was small, and Derek didn’t think anything of it. Until he saw Stiles again at the grocery store and everything changed.

Derek had the day, or rather night off, and he was thankful.

He was really starting to hate his job. Berns had intentional lost all the paperwork he had done the night before and so Derek didn’t even get to leave the station all night. He had to do it all again. He was starting to understand why so many sups hated humans so much. He certainly hated the Sheriff. 

He couldn’t sleep much that night, his body had already adjusted to being on nights, so he found himself up at two in the morning, without anything to do or anyone to talk to. If it wasn’t a full moon, most of the pack was in bed by midnight. He watched some TV in his room as not to wake anyone, before going to make himself a snack, only to find that out that they were basically out of everything. 

Lucky, the best supermarket in town was open twenty-four hours. He made up a list that included all his favorite things, grabbed the pack credit card, and headed out. 

Shopping in the middle of the night was an odd experience. There was almost no one in the store other than a few clerks stocking shelves. It was just Derek and the buzzing of the fluorescent lights. It felt lonely but, with no one there, he made it through his list in record time. 

He had finished checking out and was pushing his cart out to his car when he saw Stiles standing on the sidewalk by the road, gazing out into the dark dressed in too many layers for the beginning of summer.

He wasn’t on duty. It wasn’t his business. He signed, left his cart because there was no one in the lot to mess with it anyway, and walked over. 

“Hey.” Derek said when he was close enough. “Stiles right?”

The kid turned to look at him, and Derek was once again surprised by how attractive he was, with those beautiful eyes and soft skin. He looked healthier too, though his gaze was still a little unfocused as he smiled uncertainly at Derek.

“Do I know you?”

Derek hesitate. He wasn’t sure if Stiles had been too messed up to remember him, or if he just didn’t recognize him.

“It’s Derek. Hale. Office Hale. The one who picked you up the other night. Not picked you up. Arrested you. Well, not arrested. Detained.” God, he was doing such a bad job of fucking speaking. His sisters were right. He needed to talk to more people outside of work. 

But, Stiles’ eyes lit up anyway. “Oh yeah! Scott said a hot cop helped us out. Thanks for the save man. I really appreciate it. It’s always the worst when my dad finds out I’ve been wandering again.”

They were almost the same height. Stiles could look Derek in the eye, something not many could do. He had such pretty eyes. Derek wanted to see them in the day, to see how the sunlight would sparkle off them. The silence drug on a little too long, and Derek forced himself to focus on the conversation.

“No problem.” So, whatever Stiles was into, his family knew about it. It wasn’t a one-time things. “Are you alright right now? What are you doing out so late?”

Stiles held up a container of coffee grounds. “I drank the last of it on a research binge and Melissa will kill me if she doesn’t have coffee before her shift. It starts at like five, so I figured I better get it now.”

Melissa. Must be a girlfriend. Derek ignored how his stomach dropped at that. “Do you have a ride? Do I need to call someone?”

Stiles smiled, and damn, it was a nice smile. He gestured at the street sign that mark it a pickup spot. “Nope. Bus will be here soon.”

“Alright.” Derek turned to leave but stopped himself. He couldn’t let Stiles disappear into the night without saying something this time. “You know they have programs out there. If you need help. I can connect you with people who know how to treat you.”

“If I need help?” Stiles said slowly, like he was trying to understand.

“Yeah. I mean, with your problem. I don’t mean to judge, but clearly you aren’t alright. You were wondering around barefoot for God’s sake. Don’t you think your family would be happier if you were, well normal?”

Stiles scowled and puffed out, clearly angry taking a step forward and getting in Derek’s face, but not quite touching. Derek got a sharp whiff of cinnamon mixed with the same sharp smell he had last time, the one he couldn’t place, but was too distracted by the pure furry in Stiles’ eyes to dwell on it. 

“Look man, just because you helped me out once, doesn’t mean you know anything about me. There is nothing wrong with me. I don’t need fixed, and I don’t need help from you or any of your fucking programs. And my family loves me fine the way I am.”

Stiles breathe was hot on his face. Derek held his hands up in surrender, but Stiles kept going. “And it’s asshats like you who think anyone who is different needs fixed, that’s the real problem. I don’t hurt anyone, in fact, I help people, more than even you do Mr. Dickwipe cop man. So, don’t do me anymore favors. If you see me out, feel free to arrest me. See how that goes for you. Fucker.”

Stiles stormed away, hopefully walking to another bus stop and not trying to make it home in the dark alone. 

“Well that could have went better.” Derek muttered to himself. That was what he got for trying to help. Next time, he would just arrest him. Maybe some time in jail was what it would take for Stiles to realize he had a problem. 

\------

Derek tried to forget about Stiles and get back to his life. He enjoyed both girls being home. It always felt wrong when any one of the pack was away for a long time. They all spend as much time together as possible, happy just to hang out and watch movies all piled up together. 

Talia in particular was clingy which was unusual for her. She wanted to know everyone’s schedules and kept track on a calendar hung on the fridge. Derek assumed it was because of the tension that they all could feel in the air. The anxiety she was feeling trickled down through the pack bonds, and soon everyone was on edge. Even Peter tried to spend as much time as possible at the pack house, hardly ever staying the night at his apartment. 

The pack had dinner together nearly every night, the only time that everyone schedules allowed them to be home. Talia was a terrible cook, but Derek and Cora did alright. When Peter elected to actually help out, supper was pretty tasty, especially when they added in Laura’s baking. 

On their days off, the kids would hang out in the woods, like they were children again. There was a creek that was perfect to swim in and miles of woods where they could play tag in their wolf skins without judgment. 

Even with the tension all around them, Derek couldn’t remember a better summer. Cora and Malia, who had always fought growing up, had bonded at school and were now close. Laura had come into her own, finally accepting her title as future alpha and it showed in the way she treated her siblings like pack instead of rivals. His mom was happy at her job and Peter was being less of a dick, even though he was working much than ever. 

If only Derek’s work didn’t suck so much. Just as Derek got used to nights, he got moved to swing shifts. His sleep schedule was all fucked up and he was constantly grouchy. Not to mention, Berns’ hatred towards him was starting to trickle down. He was having problems besides shitty patrols. Things went missing off his desk, his car never had gassed up when another shift used it, his requests for time off were ignored. Some of the guys were even going out of their way to shove him in the hall. It was like high school again, and he was grateful for his perfect control or else there would be blood.

He reported each incident to Parish. Parish filed the reports to have a recorded, but asked him not to escalate it, to simply take it and be the bigger man. Derek hated it, but he did. 

The icing of the cake of to all of this was now that he was sometimes on days, he was seeing Stiles everywhere. He was at the coffee shop where Derek had been sent to pick up some decent drinks for the force. He was at the dinner where Derek went for lunch. Hell, he seemed to hang out at the library that was right across the street from the station. 

What kind of teenager hung out at a library?

Derek watched him come and go while he was stuck working on paperwork, never driving, always walking, though sometimes a pale blue jeep picked him up. Derek wondered if it was his girlfriend’s. 

Through all of it, Stiles ignored him, eyes brushing over him like he wasn’t even there. Derek didn’t do such a good job overlooking. He always watched him, pleased to see that he looked healthy, that there was a little color back in his cheeks, a little more meat on his bones.

It was infuriating to see Stiles, though it was inevitable in such a small town. Every time he did, he felt the sting of his rejection, the hate in his eyes. He couldn’t help but watch him though. As angry as he was, he still wanted Stiles to be safe. He ignored the voice in his head that questioned why.


	2. Chapter 2

Derek was about to lose his shit. Someone had changed the frequency on his radio in his patrol car. He didn’t notice until he needed back up to help deal with a domestic dispute. By the time he figured it out and fixed it, the woman had scratched up his face, while the man rained blows on his back. Derek couldn’t stop both of them without hurting the humans, so he just had to deal while he waited and waited for help. 

He came back to the station to change uniforms, because his was covered in blood, sweat and liquor that the man had spilled on him. He saw Sheriff Berns in his office lounging with his feet up, and he made a decision. 

He had put up with this long enough. Shitty shifts, boring patrols, and practical jokes were one thing. Messing with his radio could have put people in danger. It needed to stop, or he needed to find a new job. 

He was feet from the Sheriff’s door, taking deep breaths and focusing on his anchor, on his family, to keep his control, when another man in uniform that Derek didn’t recognize breezed by him, looking even angrier than Derek felt. 

“What the hell do you think you are doing Officer Berns?” The man thundered, clearly audible from outside the office even without supernatural hearing. 

Berns stood, looking shocked. “I’m, acting as Sherriff?” It came out a question.

“The hell you are.”

All the officers in the bullpen were listening now. Berns looked terrified, eyes darting for a way out that wasn’t through the rather imposing officer blocking the door, arms crossed and legs wide. 

“I.” Berns swallowed hard. “I was following instructions. I was told to run the force.”

“By who? Clearly not me. Because I recall putting you on desk duty to run the paperwork while I was gone.”

Derek snorted. He had been running the paperwork for weeks. He liked this new guy already. He was on the older side, a few white hairs scattered in with his brown and plenty of wrinkles, but he carried himself the way only a man with years on the job could. 

“I was doing what I was told. By the Mayor, in fact.” Berns looks almost smug when he said it. 

“Jesus Christ, a man can’t even go on a honeymoon without everything going to shit.” The older officer puffed up, clearly preparing to rip Berns a new one, when nearly everyone’s radios went off. 

Derek cussed, then turned to run to the cruisers, even though he wasn’t technically on patrol. The call was for an explosion. It was an all officer’s on deck situation, the kind that they trained him of at the academy but one he hopped would never happen. 

Parish grabbed his arm in the parking lot, throwing Derek into Parish’s cruiser that was parked at the front of the lot. They drove like mad men, sirens blaring as people raced to get off the road and out of their way. 

The call came from a neighborhood on the edge of town. It was a poor one, filled with old worn out houses and tired people. 

They pulled up on the scene first. There were only two other officers on site and they were frantically trying to keep people away from the burning wreck that used to be a house. People were screaming, some on bleeding on the ground after having been hit by shrapnel. 

“Hale, Parish get me a perimeter. West, Miller, start triage. The ambulances are a minute out.”

The older officer from before, Stilinski his name plate read, was barking orders and everyone was jumping to obey them. Derek did as well, pushing back the neighbors and noisy onlooker out of the street so the firetrucks could get through. One guy with a camera was particularly aggressive and refused to move until Derek threaten to arrest him. 

Things came together quickly under Stilinski’s supervision. They got the area roped off, the wounded out of the way, and the firetrucks in. 

No one was hurt too badly. Most victims just had scratches and scrapes, though one woman broke her arm when she was thrown by the blast. The fireman didn’t try to enter the house. It was already basically rubble. They were simply trying to keep the flames from spreading. 

“Do you think someone did this on purpose?” Derek asked Parish, as they stood to the side, their presence enough to keep most people back now “Or some sort of meth explosion?”

Parish shrugged. “No idea. It will be a mess if it was.”

“I don’t smell anything unusual.” 

Parish have him a long look. “Make sure to put that in your report.”

Derek nodded, looking out into the crowd. Suddenly a rather beat up old car screeched to a stop and a woman threw herself out and pushed through the crowd, screaming. 

“Tyron!” She yelled, trying to push past them as well and into the now smoldering ruins. 

“Hey.” Derek caught her easily. “You can’t go any closer.”

“No you don’t understand.” The woman was frantic. “Tyron was there. I have to get to him.”

“Ma’am was that your house?” Parish asked.

“Yes.” It was a wail. “I left my son to run to the store. Is he alright? Where is he?”

Derek froze up. This was the part of the job he was terrible at. Parish took over. “Ma’am let’s go over and talk with the Sheriff.”

He led the poor woman away, though Berns was nowhere to be seen. Derek continued to scan the crowd for anyone who looked guilty or out of place. He was rattled, the idea of a child being in that explosion was almost too awful to think about. If it had been one of his sisters, he shuttered as he imaged it. He tried to focus on his simply doing job, but right now it wasn’t exciting enough to keep his focus and his mind kept wandering. 

He spotted a familiar face and went from upset to furious. He and stalked over, all his adrenaline and fears bubbling over.

“What the actual fuck Stiles.” It wasn’t really a question. He jerked the kid out of the crowd and over to his cruiser. The kid had no reason to be here. He didn’t live in the neighborhood. Either he was stalking Derek, a real possibility considering how often he saw the kid, or he had something to do with the explosion. 

“What are you doing here?” Derek demanded, giving him a chance to defend himself. 

Stiles looked high as fuck. His eyes weren’t focused, and he was swaying hard enough that it was only Derek’s grip that kept him upright. He reeked of drugs and burn metal. There was no scent of cinnamon that Derek had begun to associate with the boy. 

“He wasn’t there.” Stiles slurred out finally, as a shutter ran through his thin frame. 

Derek signed. “Put your hands behind your back.”

Stiles didn’t, but he also didn’t fight when Derek did it for him, clipping the cuffs around his wrist once again. 

“What are you doing?” Parish was suddenly there, no sign of the crying woman and he pushed Derek away from Stiles, unlocking the cuffs and adjusting so he was the one holding most of the kid’s weight.

“He’s been following me around Parish. Now he’s here right when there is an explosion. He needs to be taken in for questioning.”

Parish’s eyes were blazing, and his skin smoked faintly. “No” 

Derek bristled at the word. “You can’t protect him. He is a person of interest. He needs to be taken in.”

“No.”

“I thought I told you officers to man the perimeter.” Stilinski stalked over as the crowd began to surge forward as the officers were distracted. His face softened and eyes wide as he saw Stiles in Parish’s arms. “Shit, kid. What’s going on?”

Stiles’ rolled his eyes over to Stilinski but seemed too confused to speak. It wasn’t until the officer gently pushed his chin up to meet his eyes that the kid spoke. “He isn’t here. It was an accident, but he wasn’t here.”

“Alright, alright,” Stilinski soothed Stiles as he began to shake in earnest, eyes darting so fast they looked like they looked almost white, before they rolled back into his head. It was eerie. Derek didn’t know much about humans, but he was pretty sure that wasn’t normal. The older man waited until Stiles’ eyes refocused and took several deep breathes before asking “Do you have your pills?”

Stiles nodded, pulling an orange prescription bottle out of his pocked and shaking one pill out. He dry swallowed it, then seemed to go almost limp in Parish’s grip.

“I’ll call Melissa, tell her what happened. Parish, you get him home.”

Parish nodded, and carefully maneuvered Stiles into the front seat of the car. Derek was stunned, unable to process what had happened. Stilinski was in on whatever Stiles was into as well.

“Hale.” He was pulled from his thoughts by a yell, any softness in Stilinski’s face gone “Don’t you have a job to do?”

Derek went back to manning the perimeters, mind whirling over the implications of what he had seen. Clearly both Stilinski and Parish were in on something, something that Stiles was a part of. He watched the crying woman hold Tryon, who had snuck over to a friends house while his mother was out and was completely fine. He watched the fire inspectors declare it a gas explosion and an accident. He watched and he made a decision. 

\---------  
Derek went into the work the next day with his resignation letter in his hand and a blank face that he hopped hid how furious he was. 

They shouldn’t be enabling Stiles like that. He clearly needed help. And if both Parish and Stilinski were in on it, he was out. 

He didn’t even stop at his desk. He marched past the bullpin and straight into the Sheriff’s office, ready to hand Berns his letter and storm back out. He had no idea what he would do for a job, but anything was better than working for crooked cops. 

He slammed the letter on the desk before Berns even turned around, chest heaving with the effort of keeping his temper under control and not shattering the desk. 

“What’s this?”

Derek took half a step backwards, confused. Berns wasn’t there. Instead Stilinski was standing behind the desk wearing the Sheriff star, looking surprisingly unconcerned to have an angry werewolf in his office.

“Where’s Berns?

The other man’s face twisted into a smirk. “His orders from the Major didn’t hold up as well as he thought. In fact, it appears that weren’t even from the city at all. He has found himself a job in a different precinct. Very far away.”

They stood and faced each other for a long moment, before Stilinski opened the letter and skimmed it. “Is that what this letter is about? Because Parish told be how terrible he treated you sups. And trust me when I say, it won’t be happening again.”

“Yes, I mean no. I mean, are you the Sheriff now?” Derek eyed the star on the man’s chest. 

“Son, I’ve been the Sheriff since you were in diapers. I happen to take a little personal time and I find out that dickface has been in my chair and running this department into the ground. So, no I’m not accepting your resignation. Not until you see how I run this department.”

“No. It wasn’t about how Berns treated me. Not entirely.” Derek had to stand firm. “It’s also about Stiles.”

And all the other poor souls like him. People who needed help, people that weren’t getting it because of the police.

The Sheriff looked surprised. “You know Stiles?”

“I picked him up once, wandering the streets barefoot, stoned out of his mind. I gave him a warning, two actually, and then I found him again at the scene yesterday. He needed to be taken in. He needs help before he hurts someone or himself."

The Sheriff sat and motioned for Derek to as well. He did, but sat on the edge of his chair, ready to storm out at any moment. 

“What if I assured you that Stiles was already under treatment? That I have personally made sure he is as safe as possible?”

“I would. I would feel better.” Derek didn’t know what to make of that. Stiles didn’t seem like he was in treatment, but it was hard to say. Maybe he had had a relapse. Or his recovery was just slow. He wanted to believe the Sheriff, he wanted to believe Stiles wasn’t in trouble, and the Sheriff’s heart was steady. Maybe it was true. 

“Better enough to stay?”

“Yes. Sir.” He added, remembering belatedly that he needed to show respect to the man who was apparently the in charge of the station.

“Good. Tear up this letter and get to work. And don’t worry about Stiles. He’s fine.”

Derek frowned, hearing the blip in the Sheriff’s heart, but didn’t say anything. That would be rude. He went back out and got his assignment from Parish, please to see he had a downtown patrol for a change. 

He would stay for now. 

\-------  
Derek’s work life got way better. He was still on swing shifts, but now with decent patrols littered in with bad ones. He was only in charge of his own paperwork, instead of everyone’s. Even things he didn’t notice had been happening, like the other officers avoiding him and snickering under their breath, stopped. 

He got to use his ability as a werewolf as well. Patrol needed to find drugs in a car? Derek. Cops needed to find what building was being used to store illegal guns? Derek. Suspect running through the woods? Derek. 

It finally felt right to be a cop, thanks to the change in leadership. He was helping people and using his natural born gifts to do so. He could see the change in the community from having Stilinski in charge as well. Even though sups were still coming to the area, drawn in by the fairness of the politics, and the constancy of living in a territory with a stable pack, the mentality of the town wasn’t hateful. The air didn’t feel so tight and he could breathe again. The feeling carried over to the pack, which Talia didn’t feel the need to pull as tight. It was nice, comfortable, having everyone contented at last. 

His family noticed the change in him more than anyone else, probably because he had such a reputation for being a grump. He was singing in the shower, humming while he cleaned up dishes. Cora asked if he had a new girlfriend. Peter asked if he was getting laid. He ignored them both. He was happy and that was all that mattered. 

He still saw Stiles around, who was also starting to look healthier and happier, as if to prove the Sheriff’s promise that he was getting treatment. 

In fact, Derek started seeing him more and more. Stiles still hung out at the dinner and library, but he was also apparently very familiar with the officers in town, something Derek hasn’t noticed before when all he could think about was how Stiles needed help. 

Stiles waved hello to Officers Smith and Shoulders when he walked past them on the street. He sat with the deputies at the dinner, arm around the Sheriff’s shoulder. He showed up at the office a few times with cupcakes and other goodies. 

The other cops went crazy for the treats and Derek could see why. They were amazing. The chocolate chip cookies were sent from the gods. Laura only wished she could bake like this.

Derek had five and regretted nothing. 

It made him feel better, knowing that the whole force was looking out for the kid. Whatever treatment he was getting, surely having such a widespread support system was good for him. And if Derek found it hard not to growl when Parish stopped Stiles on the way in to the library to hand him a sack lunch, well that was no body’s business. He didn’t have a crush. He didn’t.

\-----  
Derek’s crush came out on a perfectly beautiful Thursday evening right after dinner. It was messy and loud. And it was all Cora’s fault.

The whole pack was home. Derek had worked the evening before but had grabbed a quick nap, as had Laura. Cora’s community service was in the morning, and Malia didn’t work at the restaurant that night. 

Talia and Peter were all in her office, talking over the girl’s futures once more. As the only two adult Hales left alive, they co parented more often than not, relying on each other more than most siblings could. Peter was determined to send Malia back to school, even if it wasn’t the same one that they had left. Talia was dead set against it. The tension had left their town, not the cities. 

While the adults argued, the kids hung out in the kitchen. Laura had a new brownie recipe to try out. Cora was helping, while Malia played on her phone, legs dangling off the counter where she had placed her ass, directly in the way and loving it. 

Derek was sketching at the table, something he hadn’t done since college. It had been a good outlet after Paige and he continued it through school, even winning a few awards. It had stopped when he went to academy though. He had just been too busy. But he had found a few old sketchbooks and was giving it another go, remembering how it used to ground him and thinking he could use a little stability in his life. 

“Brownies are up!” Laura said, placing the hot pan on the stove.

“Gimmie.” Malia launched herself at them, Cora holding her back by the shirt.

“No fair. You didn’t help so you have to wait.”

Malia’s eyes flashed. “You never want my help.” 

Cora growled and they began to play wrestle on the kitchen floor, partial shifted and loud. 

Derek stood and walked over to the stove, avoiding the fight while smiled at their bickering and went to grab one for himself before they were gone. Food never lasted long around here, even though Laura made a double batch.

Laura watched him chew. “What do you think?”

“Not bad.” He answered honestly. “But I’ve had better.”

Laura puffed out. “When have you had better?”

“Around.” It was actually at the station just the other day when Stiles had brought in some double chocolate brownies that were melt-in-your-mouth amazing. Stiles had smiled at Derek as he dropped them off and Derek had spent the rest of the thinking about it. 

The girls had stopped fighting, Malia having won the right to the next brownie, and Cora was at the table, flipping through his sketchbook. “Derek who is this?” she asked, stopped a few pages in.

Shit. He had drawn Stiles’ smile from that day, all warmth and beauty, his eyes glowing and looking so happy as he laughed at something Parish has said, though his eyes had been on Derek.

“Nothing.” 

The sketch wasn’t finished. There was no way they would figure out who it was. No way.

“He’s cute.” Malia remarked, sliding over and looking as well.

“No way, it’s way too pretty for a boy. It’s a girl. Awww, our little Der Bear is growing up.” Laura said, joining them. 

Derek felt his face flush. He growled and reached for the sketch, only to have it pulled away by Malia, who ran across the kitchen. 

“Actually, he looks familiar.” Malia said, stopping and looking at the paper way too hard. Derek ran at her again, only to be pushed to the side by Laura. 

Derek stomach sunk at the idea of anybody figuring it out. He gave up running, the girls outnumbered him anyway, and glared at his family, hoping they would get bored. “It’s nobody. Just a random person I thought of to practice.”

Malia shrugged, then went to hand over the book to Derek, only to have it snatched away yet again by Cora. 

“Oh, I know who it is! It’s Stiles.”

Derek kept his face blank, but his heart stuttered so hard Laura looked at him with concern. He could smell himself reeking of embarrassment and anger. 

“Who’s Stiles?” Laura asked, face no longer teasing but curious, looking between Cora and Derek.

“He’s a boy that works with my community service sometimes.”

“Stiles works community service? Really? I thought he had an in with the cops because of his dad or whatever.” Malia asked.

Cora rolled her eyes. “Yeah he goes with us in the morning. He like, helps the officers? But only sometimes. I don’t know, it’s weird. But he is super cool though. Weird, but cool.”  
“I know he is. He comes by the restaurant at least once a week to eat with his dad. He makes me laugh. He always tells these stupid jokes.” Malia said, grinning somewhat predatorially. “I like him.”

“Wait, you all know this guy?” Laura was back to amused. “Aww, Derek why don’t you introduce him to the rest of the family?”

Jealousy was rolling in his belly. Derek didn’t like how Malia was grinning, or that Cora got to see Stiles almost every day, or that Laura wanted him to share. He snarled and shoved his sister, ripping the sketchbook out of her hands, tearing the picture in the process. 

Cora fell hard, as she tripped over the rug on the way down, knocking the dishes that had by drying on the counter to the ground. Her eyes flashed as she fell. She beta shifted and threw herself at her brother. 

Derek roared, claws out to meet her. The kitchen descended into madness as Malia joined Cora, giggling at first but what started as a play fight, quickly became serious when no one refused to give. Cora was fast and Malia was brutal but Derek was strong and, with his training, a much better fighter. Laura stood to the side and screamed at them all to stop, trying to pull them apart without getting clawed herself. 

“What is going on in here?” Talia thundered at the door, eyes flashing red. 

Derek let go of Cora’s hair and Malia climbed off his back. There were broken dishes all over the floor, the brownies too. The table had been knocked over and the chairs overturned. Each of them were splattered with blood from already healed gashes. Derek keep his eyes on the filthy floor, feeling ashamed and wilting under the disappointment rolling off his alpha. 

Cora glanced at her brother and opened her mouth, but Talia held up her hand. “I don’t want to hear it. I thought you were all adults, something Peter had almost convinced me of tonight. Clearly, he is wrong. Neither of you girls is going back to school in the fall, unless it is here in Beacon Hills.”

Both Malia and Cora began to complain instantly, Laura jumping to their defense. Derek stayed quiet. Personally, he wanted his whole pack close.

“Enough.” Talia said, throwing just a bit of alpha into her voice. They silenced immediately. 

“It’s been decided. Clean this up, then go to bed.”

The kids hurried to obey. Laura grabbed the broom, Cora wiped up the blood, Malia fixed the chairs and table that had been overturned, while Derek gathered up what was left of his art supplies, looking sadly at the ruined sketch. 

They were on the way up to their rooms, when Cora bumped his shoulder as he tried to go to his room. 

“Sorry.” She said, looking contrite. “We shouldn’t tease. I was just excited. Stiles is one of the only people in town who didn’t act like I was a freak for being a wolf, or a monster for having to do community service. And Malia has told me about how he is so nice to her at the restaurant. It would have been cool if you knew him too.”

“It’s ok.” Derek’s anger had faded and now there was only embarrassment. “I don’t know him, not really. I don’t know why I drew him.”

Stiles had just looked so beautiful the other day, eyes alive with life. Stiles made him feel something. Made him feel protective and free all at the same time. Derek didn’t know what to make of it. 

Cora gave him a long look, arms crossed and leaning against his door. “You should talk to him. I think you would like him. And you could use a good friend.”

She kissed him on the cheek before going to bed. 

But that was the problem, Derek though as he laid in bed. He didn’t want a friend. He wanted more. And he wanted it from Stiles. Who was beautiful, and apparently funny and kind. Who had already charmed half his pack. 

Stiles who was battling addiction. Who may or may not like guys. Who every single cop in the city seemed to love. Stiles who had a girlfriend.   
Derek huffed, rolling over and trying to sleep. He didn’t stand a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

Derek went to his early morning shift the next day in a terrible mood. Talia had still been mad this morning, and made sure everyone knew, stomping around and growling if anyone spoke too loud.

The whole thing had been stupid. Derek shouldn’t have reacted like that over his sisters finding out about Stiles. It wasn’t like there was anything to find out about. It was a pathetic little crush that would go away soon enough. 

Derek’s shift helped improve his mood, almost to the point he could pretend the night before never happened. 

The new Sheriff, or rather, the old Sheriff, had been switching up shifts like crazy. He rotated them more evenly but also sorted the sups in with the humans. Now, the only time Derek was on his own was when he was on an easy assignment. But the Sheriff had insisted on body camera’s anytime they were out, so Derek would still have proof if anyone tried to pull any speciest bullshit. And today was the easiest shift there was. 

May had creeped into June and the tourist season was in full swing. Which meant today Derek got to patrol the preserve, the closest thing to freedom he could have on the job.

The Hale family didn’t own the entire preserve, nowhere close. They owned a few good miles, about a hundred or so that surrounded the house so they would have plenty of room to run, not to mention privacy. But there were still huge swaths of land that had been turned over to the state and made into trails and camping.

The city liked to keep a cop near the woods because tourists had a tendency to make trouble. Sometimes it was just getting lost. Other times it was getting drunk and starting a fight, or setting the woods fire, or causing property damage to the other campers. 

It was considered an easy shift because it was mostly driving from campground to campground making sure there were no issues. Derek personally tried a little harder. He liked to spend some time running the trials to, in be sure that no one was out there and hurt, in addition to the campground sweeps. There were park rangers who did this as well, but it helped morale to have a police presence. 

He had a good run and a great shift. He came back to the office to finish his paperwork feeling a million times better. He rushed through his paperwork, eager to get home and tell his sisters that everything was forgiven.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the hummingbird heartbeat until it was directly in front of him. He looked up in time to see a paper plate loaded with brownies dropped into the middle of his desk. 

“Hi.” Stiles was standing there, smiling somewhat shyly.

“Hi.” His stomach fluttered nervously, and he frowned, trying to get a hold of himself. 

“So, Cora said she owned you some brownies.” Stiles’ fingers were drumming a pattern on the edge of his desk. Derek had to force himself not to stare at the long beautiful things. 

“Cora?”

“Yep.” He popped the p. “She said you guys had some sort of fight last night and your mom got mad and no one got any of the brownies Laura made. Totally unfair if you ask me. So, I agreed to make you some, under the condition you share. But personally, I don’t know if Cora deserves brownies. She was in a bad mood today. So, actually maybe she needs brownies more than usual. Self-care and all that.”

Jesus, Stiles could talk. Derek kept waiting on him to take a breath so he could interrupt, but he didn’t, words continuing to spill out his mouth an an impressive rate. 

“Anyway, so yeah food. Speaking of you probably eat sometimes right? Like of course you do. But do you?”

Stiles finally paused for Derek to speak but his mind was still stuck on Cora and Stiles. On what she might have said to him specifically about how Derek might feel about the human.

“You talked with Cora about our fight?”

“Well no not about it. She just seemed down today and so I asked why and she said she was a jerk but it’s cause and direct quote here’ you can’t get your head out of your ass’ and I felt bad because Cora is so cool and so I made food. By the way, did not put it together that you guys were siblings until today. I knew Cora had a brother but had no idea it was the hot police officer that thought I ‘needed help.’” Stiles put air quotes around the words. “But my dad says you really are a good cop and seem to care about your job and I figured we should maybe give each other another chance. Plus, Cora says you are a total marshmallow but she is such a nerd, so how can she talk? Like she totally loves DC. Personally I’m a Marvel guy and I like movies and the comics and she just does movies but to each there own. Anyway, food?”

The amount of information being thrown at Derek was overwhelming. He blinked hard, trying to focus on the words and not the lips saying it and those fingers literally never stopped tapping. He honestly couldn’t remember the question that Stiles had started with.

“What?” 

Stiles looked a little disappointed but before he could start up again, the Sheriff yelled from his office. 

“Stiles. Why are you distracting Officer Hale? He is here to work, not talk to you.” The Sheriff shot Derek a unnecessarily dark look. “Go home. Now.”

Stiles shot Derek a playful grin. “Until next time then Officer.” He saluted the Sheriff, who rolled his eyes before going back inside. 

“That was weird right” Derek asked Greenberg, who was just coming on shift. 

“I don’t know man. That’s Stiles. He had always been like that.”

Derek finished up his work and headed home with a smile. Stiles had made him brownies. Brownies that he was not going to share with his sisters. Maybe his crush wasn’t as hopeless as he thought. 

\----  
Stiles started coming around the station more and more. He usually just bugged the Sheriff, but he always shot Derek a smile before he left.

Derek was starting to think that Stiles didn’t have a drug problem, or maybe that he had kicked it unnaturally fast. He never smelled like any of the regulars, pot, meth, or coke and although he sometimes seemed out of it, he didn’t act quite right for stoned. Derek just didn’t know what else it could be. Maybe a metal disorder, bipolar or schizophrenia or something. Hell, maybe it was just magic causing him to behave weirdly. He was a level three, after all. He didn’t have full control of something. 

But the more time he spent around Stiles, not with because it wasn’t really with, Stiles just came into the station like he lived there, the less he cared. 

Stiles was amazing. He was the most optimistic person Derek had ever met. He was always smiling and almost cheerleading the other officers, pulling them up when they had a bad day. He was smart. He spent fifteen minutes taking to Officer Smith about his string of break-in’s before figuring out it was the son of a local security guard. And he was funny, in the sharp, quick way Derek could never be as he danced from desk to desk, making even Randy laugh. 

The only problem was after their odd conversation, Stiles didn’t seem to be in a hurry to talk to Derek again. Sure, Derek caught his eyes on him more often than not, as he talked to the Sheriff or Parish for whatever reason and he always smiled at him before he left, but never came over to Derek. Which sucked. Because Derek wanted to try again. And actual say something that wasn’t one word answers this time. 

Because his crush wasn’t getting better. He was falling and falling hard.

\-------  
The full moon came in went. The pack all ran. Even Derek had managed to get the evening off. The pack ran in their wolf skins, howling at the moon and playing. It was nice to have them all together; the girls had missed several moons while they were at school and Laura tended to work at the hospital on full moons. They didn’t have to shift on the full moon, but it felt good, like stretching after a long day, and Derek felt more centered then he had in a long time the next day, even though he hadn’t gotten to bed until the sun peeked over the horizon. 

The next day Derek was on patrol at the preserve again. He had been pulling a lot of shifts out there lately, likely because the campground staff had requested him, ever since he saved them from a family of skunks.

He rushed through his rounds, eager to get back to the station. He had a plan. He had brought Stiles dish back. He was going to give it to him and say thanks. And then ask him if he like coffee’s as well as pastries. And then, if Stiles did, he would invite him for a coffee sometime. He had practiced with Cora, without using names of course, who didn’t even laugh at him. He was ready. 

Until he got back to the hiking check in station to find an extremely worried mother crying about her daughter. Her three year old daughter. Who she thought was with her siblings, who in turn thought the baby was with their mother. 

“Slow down, ma’am.” Derek said, trying to sound reassuring and failing, if the increase in sobs was anything to go by. He struggled with the more human side of police work, though he did try. He just didn’t have a reassuring face. “How long has she been missing?”

“Sara. Her name is Sara and it’s been almost four hours.”

Four hours was a long time in the woods for a toddler. Derek sniffed the air and helped the mother check all the usual places, bathrooms, cars and playground, but he didn’t find anything. If she was somewhere on the trails, he would have smelled her while running them just an hour or so ago. She had to be in the woods.

It was getting dark. He radioed it in.

\-----  
The Sheriff was good. Within thirty minutes, he had volunteer search parties ready to go, each one with an officer on point and all the sups on the force were on hand. All the other hikers had been cleared out of the paths and the family was being comforted while an ambulance waited, ready to go. 

They were gathered at the trail head where Sara had gone missing, where the parties would branch out. 

Derek flexed his hands, letting the blue bleed into his eyes as the wolf creeped out. He wouldn’t do a full shift, not here, but if there was ever a time for a beta shift, it was now. He was scenting the woods constantly, trying to get any hint of which direction to start. 

“Hey.” A familiar voice said as Derek turned around, caught off guard while his focus had been on the missing girl. “I’m in your group. So is the Sheriff.”

Stiles was standing there, eyes a little vague and tone almost dull. He smelled wrong, sharp, like burn sugar and iron, and Derek didn’t like it at all. 

“Are you sure you should be out here? You don’t look so good.”

“I’m fine worry wolf.” Stiles blinked hard, and his eyes cleared marginally. He pushed a forced grin on his face and held up his flashlight and yellow safety vest like that qualified him. 

“Do you have any training at all?”

“Hey, I’m an honorary officer.”

Derek rolled his eyes but smiled a bit as his mind briefly filled with a vision of himself finding Sara, who is safe and sound, and Stiles being so impressed that he would accept Derek’s offer for coffee. 

The Sheriff yelled out the go ahead and the groups file into the woods, branching out and going slow, as not to miss anything. Derek shook his head, mildly ashamed of himself. This was about a missing girl, not Stiles. No matter how good it felt to have him walking beside him, his body warm and scent returning to cinnamon. 

The search teams covered plenty of ground, the woods filled with the sound of people crying out Sara’s name, but no one found any sign of her. It was starting to get dark and it could get cold out in the some of the rock formations. Derek was worried. He considered calling up his mother and getting some other wolves out here, if the Sheriff would let him, but fear of what the many worried and well-armed humans in the woods might do to one of them kept him from it.

Stiles did well. He never fell behind or disobeyed any of Derek’s, or the other officers’ orders, through Derek noticed the Sheriff watching him closely. Stiles stayed focused and his scent remained normal, if a little anxious. 

They had been out it for hours, when Derek finally caught a scent. It was coming from the direction of the creek that ran through the area, a jolt of concern ran through him. If Sara had fallen in the water….

He motioned to the Sheriff that he was going to break off when he felt Stiles hand on his arm. He was impressed by the size of it. Because Stiles was young, somehow, he expected him to be small. But Stiles had long fingers and a strong grip, matching his thin but tall frame.

“Don’t. She isn’t that way.”

“What?” Derek finally had a lead. He wasn’t going to throw it away. 

“She heard the creek, but her mama told her never to play by water. She went the other way. Into the rocks. She’s close.” Stiles gaze was distant again and his grip went limp as he stumbled slightly. 

The Sheriff was there to catch him before Derek could move. “You heard him. Move out.”

Their group broke away from the other and began to move quickly across the woods towards the rock outcropping. Stiles was being pulled along by the Sheriff, but he was keeping up.

The rocks were in sight when Derek caught the girl’s scent, even stronger than before. He broke into a run, faster than any of the humans could, though he could hear them following close behind. 

Sara was there, wedged between two large rocks, shivering with scraped knees, but other than that, smelling uninjured, or at least pain free. Derek let his beta shift fall before he approached her, not wanting her to be scared.

“Hey. You’re alright. We’re here to help. I’m a cop. I’m going to take you to your mom.”

Sara sniffled, then held out her arms. Derek picked her up, holding her close. His werewolf body temperature would warm her faster than anyone else’s might, though he wished he had thought to grab an emergency blanket.

The rest of the officers burst into view only moments later.

“Is she okay?” the Sheriff asked, looking about as relieved as a person could be. He shucked off his coat and wrapped in around the girl.

“I think so.” Derek stuck his nose in Sara’s hair and got a better smell. “She smells fine.”

“She is.” Stiles was standing a little bit apart but spoke with complete confidence watching the scene with a pleased look on his face. “She is just fine.”

They made good time back to the trail head. Derek didn’t want to run and jostle Sara unnecessarily just in case she was hurt, but he walked as quickly as he could, the rest of the search parties coming back as well. He could hear them, excitedly chattering as word spread the girl had been found and the scent of joy filled the air. It felt good and he wanted to howl for happiness that it had all turned out alright.

The Sheriff radioed ahead and let the family know Sara had been found. Her mother was crying when she took Sara from his arms, thanking him with every breath as she held her little girl close. The other officers, even the ones who barely knew him, were clamping him on the shoulder and telling him good job. 

“It wasn’t me ma’am.” Derek blushed, not liking all the attention. “It was everyone. I was just the fastest to get to her.”

It was Stiles, but Derek hesitated to say it. Clearly Stiles had some sort of gift, but Derek didn’t want to oust him, especially not knowing the whole story. Derek had known that he had something since he saw Stiles ID, but he never smelled like magic, not like Deaton and the other mages did. He had never given any real thought to the magic being why Stiles acted a bit off but it seemed obvious now. 

His modesty was ignored, and he had far more attention on him than he wanted. He accepted the thanks, hoping it was the sort of good publicity that might help sups, and smiled awkwardly. The Sheriff started shutting the scene down, so Derek drifted away from the crowd only to find Stiles there as well, leaning against the Sheriff’s cruiser and smelling exhausted. 

“They look happy don’t they.” Stiles said wistfully, gesturing at the family all gathered around the girl as the EMT’s pronounced her healthy. 

“Yeah.” Derek had the sudden urge to wrap his arms around Stiles. “I’m going to be really rude.”

Stiles snorted. “Go for it. It will make a change from how you are always glaring at me with those killer eyebrows. Or worse ignoring me.”

Derek frowned then frowned harder when he felt his eyebrows furrow. He didn’t ignore Stiles. Ever. If anything, he watched him too much. “Are you a banshee? Like Lydia Martin? Is that how you found Sara?”

Stiles didn’t look offended at all. “No, dude. And don’t ever let Lydia catch you comparing my little gift to hers. Hers is awesome and badass. Mine sucks. Besides, a banshee wouldn’t be any help. Sara was alive.”

“What is yours?” He shouldn’t be asking. It was rude and illegal and Jesus, he wanted to kiss those lips that were pouting as Stiles smirked. 

“It’s nothing really” Stiles turned to Derek and stepped closer, the smell of cinnamon and a hint of desire as those amber eyes met his own. “It’s just.” Stiles trailed off, eyes going blank, then rolling up in his head completely as his scent shifted to burning metal and hurt. He let out a soft cry of pain as his eyes shut. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked worried.

Stiles didn’t answer. Instead, he went limp, listing to the side and falling like a tree in the forest. Derek caught him before he came close to hitting the ground and pressed him against his own chest, terrified by the kid’s racing and stuttering heart. 

“Medic!” Derek screamed.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles was so light as Derek caught him, eyes flickering back and forth under their lids, body trembling like he was freezing, even though the human was warm in Derek’s arms.

The EMT’s came running, and so had the Sheriff, looking more than a little concerned. Stiles went still as the EMT’s moved him out of Derek’s arm and onto the ground, bracing his neck and taking vitals. Derek stood up and took a few steps back like that would distance him from whatever was happening. 

“His heartrate’s high but respiration is even. Did he miss a dose?” A small Asian woman dressed as a paramedic asked the Sheriff as she took Stiles vitals and moved him from his back to his side. The Sheriff, who had taken Derek place by Stiles head, and was holding his hand. Derek was missing something here. 

“No. Melissa says he is taking his meds regularly.” 

“We could take him in. Try Diazepam. I know it’s worked before. Or I can try mountain ash injections, but you know the risk there.”

The Sheriff shook his head. “No. Let’s give it a second. He’s been doing so well lately. This could be a onetime thing.”

Derek could hear Stiles heart beating furiously, like he was running for his life. He didn’t understand why no one was doing anything. Someone should have been doing something. Stiles was a human. He needed help. 

Derek didn’t realize he was whining until Parish, who had come to stand beside him but was decidedly not looking at Stiles, gave him a weird look. Derek shut up, surprised by his own small lapse in control. 

Then all at once, the burning smell was gone. Stiles opened his eyes and immediately struggled to sit up. The Sheriff and the female paramedic helped him up, though the woman seemed to want him to lie back down. 

“Dad?” Stiles sounded so young. “Dad. We found her? Sara’s okay?”

The Sheriff pulled Stiles against his chest, wrapping a hand around the back of his head. “Yeah. We found her.”

Things were clicking into place for Derek. 

Stiles was acting more and more cognizant as he began to hug back. He pushed the EMT’s who were hovering away, though he didn’t leave the Sheriff’s arms. “I’m fine.”

The woman huffed, then looked at her partner, who grabbed their things and left, calling out about Stiles not missing his next doctor appointment. 

“Jordan. I have to finish up here. I can’t leave yet. Take him home for me?” The Sheriff stood slowly, making sure Stiles was stable before handing him off. 

“Of course.” Parish swung an arm around Stiles, who was steady of his feet now, recovering from whatever it was that happened quickly. 

Derek felt a little bit like he was in shock. His hands were shaking, like it had been Cora or Malia who had been hurt. His mind wasn’t working right, jumping from thought to thought randomly. 

“Take Hale with you.” The Sheriff suddenly was in his face, looking him over with a critical eye. Derek drew back, his instincts screaming run, as though the Sheriff was a predator. “He’s had a long day.”

Parish drove, while Stiles sat in the backseat, sitting almost motionless, though he stayed awake the whole time. 

Derek stayed in the car when Parish pulled up to an old-fashioned two-story house on the edge of a decent neighborhood. He shamelessly listened in while Parish walked Stiles up to the door, though Stiles was steady and already acted like nothing had happened. 

“You’re not home alone are you? Your dad has a few more hours before he's finished up.”

“Nope.” Stiles popped the p. “Scott’s home. Melissa had night shift again.”

“Good.” Parish clapped him on the shoulder. “You did good out there today. But you didn’t have to go in the field. You could have called it in.”

“It was a kid. I had to go. It’s just frustrating. I was doing so good then I.” Stiles made a hand gesture that conveyed his collapse. “Everyone saw.” Stiles eyes darted to the car where Derek was watching. He didn’t look away.

“You’re adjusting to being back. You’ll get back to being steady.”

“Yeah.” Stiles looked down, scuffing his shoe on the sidewalk. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime. Call if you need anything.” 

Parish climbed back in the car but didn’t turn it on. He signed and ran a hand over his face, looking tired. 

“Go ahead and ask.”

“The Sheriff is Stiles’ dad.”

“Yep.”

“Even though they have different last names.”

“Yeah. I’m not sure why, honestly.”

“Stiles has magic. He is magic.”

“Yep.”

“What kind?”

Parish made a face. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Fine. But it hurts him. Makes him act off sometimes.” Derek fingertips itched, like his claws wanted to come out. 

“Yes.”

“Can he be trained? Get better control or something.”

Parish looked pissed at the insinuation. “Stiles has the best control of nearly anyone you will meet.”

“He’s only a Level 3.”

“You saw his ID.”

Derek nodded, impatient for answers.

“Yes he’s a level three but only because the system of measuring isn’t fair to him. Just like it’s not fair to a lot of us.”

Derek was quiet for a long moment. He didn’t want to know anything else. He didn’t want to think anymore. “Let’s go.”

\-----

Derek let the warm water rush over him, washing away the memories of the night. Washing away the scent of pain and Stiles.

“Derek, are you alright?” Derek flinched as his mom knocked on the bathroom door, sounding concerned. He had though everyone was asleep. It had been late by the time he had gotten home. 

“I’m fine.” He wasn’t. He was tired and worried, so worried, about Stiles. He didn’t know how much about the search party his mother had heard through the grapevine, but he didn’t want to talk about any of it. Not the worry of the missing girl, the joy of finding her, the heart wrenching fear when Stiles had collapsed. 

“I don’t know what is making you upset, but I know you did the best you could. You always do. I love you.” Talia said, before Derek hear her move away, giving him space.

That was what made her such a good alpha. She always knew when to push and when to reassure. Tomorrow after Derek had a chance to decompress, she would ask again. She would ask what happened, how she could help. For now, she would reassure.

Even though it was almost dawn, Derek still went into his room and laid down, trying to catch a little sleep before his shift started. He had been moved from morning shift to afternoon, so he had a bit of time, but his mind just kept replaying Stiles collapsing into his arms. 

As he laid in bed, Derek didn’t feel any better. He felt almost sick himself, worried about Stiles and how he was doing this morning, if he was still ill, if he needed anything. He wanted to talk to him, really talk, but he didn’t even know what to say. 

Human’s with magic were in an awkward place. They weren’t sups, but humans still didn’t trust them. Add that in with the fact that most of the Councils were magic users and it led to a lot of discrimination, more than for sups even. Stiles likely kept it a secret for a reason. He probably didn’t want Derek to know. 

Derek huffed, then rolled over. It wasn’t like it mattered. He and Stiles weren’t even friends. They were barely acquaintances. The Sheriff said Stiles was fine. He was fine.

\----

An hour later, Derek gave up on sleep and stumbled downstairs, still exhausted. He went to the kitchen, praying for coffee and hoped no one was still home. 

“You look like shit.” Peter was there getting coffee as well, unfortunately, and as considerate as ever. 

Derek grunted and showed his human teeth, too tired to beta shift just to piss off his uncle. He grabbed a travel mug and a pop tart. He didn’t have time to eat at home, already running late. 

“Rough night?”

“Yeah.” 

“Eloquent as always nephew.”

“Fuck off. One of the guys collapsed last night. I was.” Derek hesitated. It was never a good idea to give Peter ammunition. He might use it anytime. “I was worried about him.”

Something clicked in Peter’s bright blue eyes. Peter surprised him, grabbing the scuff of his neck and pulling him in tight for a hug. Derek froze. Peter wasn’t usually demonstrative. Though he accepted touch, he almost never initiated with anyone besides Malia. 

“It’s hard, working with humans. You should talk to him.” Peter walked out of the kitchen, leaving Derek feeling just a little better as he went to get ready for his shift. 

\----

Derek’s shift was uneventful. He had to file his report for Sara but that was about it. After that, he was put on a general downtown patrol and wrote three speeding tickets and one for failure to yield at a stop sign. It was boring and good for his tired brain. 

It was dark when he clocked out, more than ready to head home. He had the next two days off and he planned on making the most of them. Maybe he could grab one of his sisters for a camping trip or something. Get out of town and recharge away from all his thoughts. 

The Sheriff was still in his office, working on paperwork, eyes down and sipping coffee. He had a brown bag with a sandwich half eaten on his desk. 

Derek knew he should leave. The pack was waiting on him for supper. He could leave and it would all be over. He knew the truth about Stiles. There were no more mysteries, no more worries. 

Derek knocked on the doorframe. The Sheriff looked up and waved him room.

“How can I help you Hale?” The Sheriff’s expression was cautious, almost wary. Derek didn’t know what he had done to deserve it. 

The Sheriff motioned for him to sit, but Derek shook his head. “I don’t mean to bother you. I just wanted to check on Stiles. Make sure he was alright. Parish told me he was your son, so I figured you would know.”

The Sheriff’s scent shifted to something sour, almost angry but his expression was blank. “He's fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Alright.” Derek shifted uncomfortably. “I’ll just. I’ll go then.”

The Sheriff nodded. “You did good last night Hale.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Derek left, wondering once again how he could be so bad at basic communication. 

\-----

No one wanted to go camping with him. For wolves, the girls sure didn’t enjoy the dirt if they weren’t in their fur. They all laid on the couches after supper, complaining about how they weren’t going to spend their days off covered in bugs. 

“We should go to the beach! All of us.” Cora said, after Derek’s camping idea was completely shot down. 

Derek groaned. He liked the beach well enough, but a beach trip with his sister was always a headache. They were pretty girls and it always turned into cluster of catcalling and sickening scents of arousal. More than once, there had been a drunk idiot who grabbed at them only to find out that any of the Hale women could snap his wrist. 

But Cora was officially done with her community service. She hadn’t been able to find a job yet, though she claimed to have some feelers out. Laura had the day off too. She worked twelve-hour shifts, so she managed four days off a week more often than not. Malia was supposed to work, but she was able to switch shifts with another girl. The next thing Derek knew, they were officially going to the beach the next day. 

\----

They piled into Talia’s SUV because no one else had a car big enough for them all. She had wanted to come, but a problem had come up with one of their rental properties and she had to deal with the landlord and tenants. Derek was pleased that Peter was coming too, so he wouldn’t be the only guy. Malia wasn’t upset about her dad tagging along. When he wasn’t in full on lawyer mode, Peter was pretty cool, cracking inappropriate jokes and leering at the other beach-goers, evening out the stares the girls got. 

They spent the day sunbathing and drinking wolfbane spiked beer until they were all as sloppy drunk as the humans beside them. They burnt then healed, then burnt again because no one remembered to bring any umbrellas or sunscreen, though they did have plenty of towels. 

Cora screamed when Malia scooped her up and dumped her in the ocean. She pouted, soaking wet, until Peter came to her recuse, throwing Malia into the deep with a playful growl. Laura grabbed Derek’s hand and dragging him away from the sketchbook he had brought and into the water was well. The whole Hale family played and laughed like they didn’t have a care in the world, because for this one day, they didn’t. 

No one talked about the darks looks they got from the humans who have clearly figured out they are werewolves from the growls and eyes flashes. They ignored the muttering that someone needs to call the cops and kick them off, though Derek was glad he grabbed his badge and handcuffs when a few of the men looked more lustful than angry. 

“Stop looking so upset nephew.” Peter laid on a beach towel and looking more relaxed than should be possible. 

“They’re staring.”

“Let them stare. You and I both know we have every right to be here."

“And if they don’t agree?” The men were whispering together now, but Derek couldn’t hear them properly over the waves and the laughter of his sisters as they swam, racing out to the peer and back. 

“We can take them.” Peter’s eyes flash blue and he looked deadly serious before he burst into laughter and tossed Derek another drink.

As the sun began to sink down, Laura bought then tacos off a food truck. It should have been enough to feed a small army, but for a family of werewolves, it was only just enough.   
Derek and Peter were fighting over the last of the chips when he caught Cora and Malia looking over at him and giggling before typing something on Cora’s phone. 

“What’s so funny?” He asked, relinquishing the chips to Peter. 

“Nothing.” Cora said with a smile. “Why would you think something is funny dear brother? Can’t I just be happy because we had this amazing day?”

Derek growled, knowing she was lying, but also that she was right. They had had an amazing day. He wasn’t going to ruin it now by bitching about her texting. 

Only the glances didn’t stop and neither did her all-knowing smirk. She watched him drive the whole way home, staying awake even though everyone else passed out. She watched him at breakfast the next day, then while he was catching up the pack’s laundry, his chore for the week, then later when they were all hanging out in the living room. She would occasionally show her phone to Malia who would laugh or grin before nodding. 

Derek didn’t know what they were planning but he knew it wouldn’t end well for him. He waited until bed before he burst into her room unannounced.

“Derek!” she screeched, eyes on her phone of course then darting up as she hid the screen “What if I had been naked?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. He had seen his whole family naked plenty of times and they had seen him too. Modesty wasn’t really a thing when everyone transformed into wild beasts and ran through the woods once a month. 

“Okay, bad example. But you should still knock. Privacy isn’t just a human thing.”

Derek grabbed her desk chair and spun it around to straddle the back and settled his arms over the back, eyes watching her.

“So, is this one of your cop tactics? Watch me until I confess? New flash, I’m not doing anything wrong. So, sit there all night.” She went back to her phone. 

It lasted less than five minutes. “Even if I was doing something it’s not like it’s any of your business. Stop watching me.”

“So, it’s not alright to stare at people?” Derek raised his eyebrow in the way knew drove her crazy.

Cora rolled her eyes. “I know you need to work on your people skills Derek, but even you know that.”

“Then why do you keep watching me?”

“You noticed that huh.” Cora looked down and picked at the bedspread. 

Now they were getting somewhere. “Yeah. And I would like to know why.”

She squirmed and her scent went from annoyed to guilty. “I can’t tell you.”

Derek immediately went on high alert, worried that the trouble from college had followed her home. He began to make plans to protect her, to hunt down the threat, but before he could demand she tell him, Cora smelled the spike in his anxiety and put her hand on his arm, trying to calm him.

“It’s nothing bad. It’s just not my secret to tell. Trust me, it’s not bad. I promise.”

“Cora, I want to trust you. I love you. But you’re my little sister. I can’t let anything happened to you.”

She sighed. “Nothing bad is happening. I’m just texting some guy I met. He’s funny. And no, it’s not serious- he doesn’t like me like that. And no, he isn’t a threat.”

Cora’s heart said she wasn’t lying, but it didn’t feel like the truth. But he was her brother, not her parole officer. He stood up from the chair and pounced on the bed, making her laugh. 

“Derek.” She squealed, still giggling.

“I only want you safe.” He buried his nose in her neck, taking in the scent of pack and home. “That’s all I ever want.”

\------

Work was uneventful for the next week. The Sheriff watched him but there was no hate there, just a sort of wariness. Most people looked at him like that. Derek still did paperwork and went on the occasional patrol. The campgrounds had been quiet, though he had free drinks anytime he was there, cutesy of the staff. They made a mean lemonade.

Stiles didn’t come in, but Derek tried not to worry. He probably still didn’t feel well. Or maybe he had gotten a job. Or maybe he was visiting a friend. Malia said he and his dad hadn’t been to the restaurant in a few days either, so it was nothing to worry about. He wasn’t worried about it.

Which didn’t explain why Derek’s heart jumped so hard when, on Friday, Stiles walked through the doors, looking healthy and as happy as ever. He swung into the Sheriff’s office, though without even stopping to joke with Parish and the normal goofy smile was gone from his face. Even from his desk, Derek could see the large hand gestures and the Sheriff’s running a hand over his face. Derek made a conscious effort not to listen, though he could almost hear them without his enhanced hearing.

Stiles didn’t stay in there long before he walked out with a frown. Derek could smell the anxiety from whatever argument they had had drifting out of the office and into the bullpen. He was surprised. Stiles never fought with anyone. Pester and annoy, wheel and cajole, but never fought. 

Derek went back to his papers. What the Stiles and the Sheriff, his father, talked about was none of him business. He’s cruiser had been pulling to the left and he wanted to have a mechanic take a look, which meant like five different forms. 

It didn’t mean he didn’t notice Stiles walking towards his desk. Derek glanced around, but no he was the only one on this side of the office. He watched Stiles as he ambled across the room, before sitting awkwardly on the edge of Derek’s desk.

Derek could feel himself glowering, but he couldn’t help it. He was confused. Stiles looked calm, or as calm as he ever was, fingers drumming on the desk and knee bouncing and eyes focusing on anything besides Derek’s face. But his heart was pounding, and he scent was flooded with so many emotions that Derek couldn’t get a read on one. 

The silence stretched on. Derek was beginning to wonder if Stiles was having another episode. Maybe he should go get someone.

“Hi.” 

Derek had never been so grateful for one word. “Hi.”

“So, I didn’t like where we left things. I mean, we were having a completely normal conversation before I bailed out on you. And it was nice.”

Derek didn’t like the implication that Stiles somehow chose not to finish their conversation in the woods. “It wasn’t your fault.”

Stiles shrugged. “I had a plan you know. I was going to ask if you wanted to get some coffee after you got off shift. Warm us up.”

“Oh.” Derek face flushed as he realized how close it had been to his own plan. Stiles smiled softly at him.

“You’re adorable.”

Derek grinned with just a hint of fangs, both pleased and annoyed at the complement and forgetting for a moment that he was at his job, not at home with his pack. “Don’t you know wild things bite?”

Stiles gaze went cloudy as his scent became bitter but both cleared before Derek could even stand up in a panic. “You’re not wild. No matter what they say.”

“I would never hurt you. Never bite you.” Derek said, abruptly, then flushed even darker when he realized how inappropriate he sounded. “I have perfect control, I mean. And I would never allow myself to be in a position where you might be in any danger. With me, I mean. I wouldn’t let you be with me if that happened.”

“Okay. Anyway.” Stiles stood up, face suddenly hard. “I think this has been sufficiently awkward. Message received.” 

Derek was confused. What message? He thought they had been flirting. It felt like they had been flirting. And Derek had done the right thing by assuring his potential mate that he wouldn’t never be in danger with Derek around. 

Stiles gave a small salute and stood, turned to go, then turned back around, looking fiercely determined. 

“No, you know what, fuck it. We are never going to get anywhere like this. I don’t think you have any idea of what I’m trying to say.” Stiles looked Derek in the eyes. “Derek, I like you. I think you’re cute when you do that little half smile. I like that your eyebrows can have their own language even though you can barely carry on a conversation. And don’t even get me started on those muscles, because I don’t know who you sold your soul to for those, but damn you are getting your money’s worth. Anyway, do you want to go out on a date with me?”

Derek’s mind screeched to a stop. This was not how he expected this conversation to go. Stiles was looking at him so damn hopefully and those fucking eyes were practically sparkling with optimism.

“Um. Yea. I mean, yes. Yes, I want to go on a date with you.”

“Great.” Stiles smiled widely. “You work late tomorrow, so let’s say brunch on Sunday. Meet me at the little place on 5th about 10:30. You know where it is?”

“Yes.”

“Alright good. And I expect you to show. Or else no more cookies. Or brownies.”

Stiles left, looking much happier than he had coming in. Derek sat in his chair, dumbstruck. He was going out with Stiles.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back after a long hiatus. I hope to start posting on a semi-regular basis, so I hope you stick around!

Luckily, Derek worked late that day and got home after everyone else was asleep. There was no way he would be able to hide the happiness he was practically radiating. But he didn’t want to tell his pack the reason why.

He knew they would be thrilled he was finally going out on a date. He didn’t get out much to hang out with people outside the pack, much less date. There had been Paige, a million years and several tragedies ago. There were a few one-night stands in college. But other than that, he was single as can be. 

But Cora and Malia would be nosey about the details, wanting to know who he was going out with, where they were going and if they were serious. Laura, as the only member of the pack that regularly dated, would be full of well-meaning advice that would just tie Derek’s stomach up in knots. And his mom, his mom would be so happy he was expanding the pack. She hated how small they were, the holes were people were missing aching even now. If it didn’t work out, it would devastate her. 

Or worse, she wouldn’t approve. She would forbid it, claiming it was too dangerous to bring a human into a werewolf pack. He would have to cancel and put out whatever spark was between he and Stiles before it ever began. 

No, it was better to keep it quiet for now. He snuck in the house and went to his room. He showered and slipped into bed with the date the only thing on his mind. He thought he would toss and turn, his mind on fire with thoughts of Stiles, his lips and those fucking hands. But, to his surprise, he fell asleep almost immediately. 

He woke up with an unpleasant jolt way too early, instantly thinking about all the things that could go wrong, instead of right. Stiles might not show. They might get to the restaurant and Stiles would realize what a terrible mistake he had made. They might make it to the end of the meal and Stiles would reveal it was all a terrible joke. 

His date wasn’t until Sunday, which gave him all of Saturday to worry. And worrying at the police station was dangerous.

They were busy, as weekends tended to be. Derek normally didn’t mind, but today he was distracted, and it showed in his work. He felt like his mind wasn’t working properly. He kept forgetting what forms were for processing and which were for release and where papers got filed. It was like it was his first day again.

He didn’t even get to go out on patrol and get some air. Greenburg had his cruiser because his own was busted so Derek was stuck on desk duty. 

It didn’t help that Derek’s focus that Parish kept shooting him meaningful looks that got more knowing throughout the day. At one point, he smirked and even made a rather rude hand gesture. Derek dropped the reports he had been holding and flailed around like he hadn’t since he was a pup growing into his paws, hoping no one had seen it.

No one had. Well almost no one. Parish grinned and slapped him on the back. “Calm down Hale. I’m not going to bust your nuts for agreeing to go on a date with the wonderful, funny, charismatic Stiles. You're lucky you got there first. ”

Well shit. He hadn’t even thought that Parish might be jealous, but from the sound of it, he wasn’t the only one with his eye on Stiles. Great. One more thing to worry about.

“Seriously, its fine, I’m just messing with you. Stiles is like my little brother.” Derek didn’t know what his face looked like, but it must not have been pretty, because Parish frowned, then slapped him on the back again. He didn’t smell upset, just a little amused. “I have to give you a hard time. He’s is a bit of a presence in town and people wondered how long it would be before you noticed.”

“Yeah I noticed.”

“He noticed you too. He’s been talking about you forever. Treat him right and you’ll be fine. The Sheriff knows how his son is. He won’t hold it against you even if the date is a flop.”

Fuck, the Sheriff. He didn’t even think about the fact he was about to go out with his boss’s son. Fuck.

He ended up taking a long lunch break where he went to the nearby park and ran laps until he was covered in sweat but no longer felt like he was about to shake out of his skin and wolf out on the next person who looked at him funny. Fuck. He felt worse than the full moon, hell worse than he did on a blood moon and those had been known to drive wolves feral. He wasn’t sure if he could handle this type of pressure.

But shitfuck, he wanted to go out with Stiles. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, even if it terrified him to his core.

He took a deep breath and focused on his anchor, on his pack. On the fact that no matter how the date went, they would be there for him. 

It was going to be fine. 

Derek did his best to forget about Stiles the rest of the shift. He didn’t come in, which helped immensely. Parish stopped looking at him and Greenberg managed to roll his ankle on a traffic stop, so Derek got to go out on parole after all. He stayed busy enough handing out tickets to keep his mind off Stiles. 

In fact, by the end of shift, Derek had almost forgotten about his brunch date. At least until the Sheriff opened his office door.

“Hale.” He beckoned, and Derek obeyed, walking into the room and sitting with a sick feeling in his stomach. 

The Sheriff looked upset, brow furrowed and arms crossed over his chest. He sat and stared at Derek, the silence so thick Derek could cut it with a claw. 

Finally, he spoke. “So, Officer Hale. I heard my son asked you out.”

“Yes sir.”

“And you agreed.” 

“Yes sir.”

“Knowing that he is my son. Knowing that he is the most important thing in my life. Knowing that you are you my employee, that your very ability to be a police officer, given your species, was based of my ideas and support. Support that was and very much a risk to myself, my career and my family.”

“Yes sir.” Derek didn’t know what else to say, but suddenly a terrible part of himself wondered if the dark looks he had been getting, the disapproval the Sheriff was radiating was because he was a were. That he had only been pretending to support supernatural rights as a way to further his career. “I would never hurt him.”

The Sheriff sighed, clearly more observant that Derek gave him credit for, answering Derek wordless concerns. “Son, this has nothing to do with your species.” 

Derek let out a sign of relief at the lack of a stutter in the older man’s heartbeat. “It has everything to do with Stiles and his wellbeing.”

“Sir?” Derek was confused. “I thought that Stiles was alright. That he was under treatment, or at least that his magic was under control.”

The Sheriff’s face twisted at that. “Figures you would have figured out about his magic. But I suspect no one has fully explained it. Or else you wouldn’t be in this office looking so calm.”

“It’s not my business.” Derek was curious, so curious, to know how Stiles’ gift worked. But it was illegal to ask, not to mention terribly rude. 

“You’re right. It’s really not. But Stiles has taken it upon himself to make it yours by asking you out. And he is never going to tell you this and you need to know.”

The Sheriff got a faraway look in his eyes and looked older than he had the entire time Derek had worked under him. 

“Stiles is special.”

“I know that sir.” Derek assured his boss. “He’s amazing.”

The Sheriff lips twitched. “You sure are gone on him aren’t you. He is. And for more reasons than you even know. But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Alright.” Derek waited patently as the Sheriff took several deep breaths, as if to prepare himself.

“Stiles has seizures.” 

Derek stomach dropped. He didn’t know much about human diseases, but he knew that was bad. Really bad. Like the potential to be deadly bad.

The Sheriff continued like he hadn’t dropped life altering news on his deputy’s head. 

“He takes medications to help control them, I’m sure you smelled them on him, but they only work part of the time. He’s prone to several different types of seizures, so it’s hard to find the right drug balance. Luckily, it’s mostly absence seizures, though you got to witness one of his atonic ones at the preserve the other night. It effects his life every day. He zones out and people think he is not paying attention or on drugs.” 

Derek squirmed, knowing that was exactly what he thought. 

“You have to be careful with him. He could collapse at any time so don’t ever let him walk in the road, or near it if you can avoid it. Obviously, he doesn’t drive but no go-carts, four wheelers, or any other motorized vehicles. You need to avoid water. No swimming, canoeing, or boating. He isn’t allowed to play sports of any kind, and the more contact the more dangerous. Trust me, he says it’s fine, but then he seizes during a pick-up game of lacrosse and you have one son with a fractured skull from a ball he didn’t see coming and another having an asthma attack from the panic.”

It was a lot of restrictions. Derek felt a rush of pity about how difficult Stiles life must be but brushed it away. He knew what unwanted pity felt like, the way it made the stomach twist. A instructor in college said they wished they could cure his lycanthropy and offered him a place in a medical study. He had come dangerously close to losing control on the well-meaning, but oh so misguided man. He wasn’t broken and didn’t need fixed. And neither was Stiles.

The Sheriff continued on. Derek wished he had a notepad to take notes as he tried to keep up with everything that was being dumped on his lap. He didn’t want to miss anything important. 

“He’s not normally photo sensitive, so you will be fine with movies or video games. Hiking is fine, as long as you are with him, and so is bowling. Anything that doesn’t put him in danger if he collapses. Don’t freak out if he doesn’t eat much. The meds mess with his appetite. Speaking of which, he carries them with him at all times. He has two different pills for emergencies, assuming he’s aware enough to take them. Always give him the one in the prescription bottle. The other one is only for absolute emergencies.”

Derek’s mind whirled as he tried to wrap his head around everything he had just been told.

“I don’t understand. Why are you telling me all of this?"

The Sheriff frowned. “Stiles’ epilepsy isn’t well controlled, but he is determined to have a normal life. He was doing better for while there, but even since he got home from school it's been acting up again. Even if you only go on the one date, chances are you will be there for at least one seizure. You need to know how to handle it.” 

“Alright.” Derek tried to focus over the buzzing in his head. “Alright. Tell me what exactly to do.”

“If it’s an absence seizure his eyes lose focus. He’ll stop talking and will likely stop moving altogether. The best thing is to wait for him to come back, then act like nothing happened. It shouldn’t last more than a few seconds to a minute. If it last longer, you call me.”

“Okay.” Derek had stolen a blank report form of the Sheriff’s desk and started frantically writing notes on the back. 

“If its atonic, he drops. He usually gets dizzy, he calls it fuzzy, before them so you have some warming, assuming he tells you. His eyes roll back and his heartbeat and breathing can get weird. They can last up to three minutes before you worry and call me. Unless he hits his head, then you call an ambulance immediately.”

“Alright.” Derek could handle this. Stiles was still Stiles. Just because he now knew the details of his condition didn’t change that. “Alright. If he loses focus pretend nothing happened. If he drops, wait up to three minutes. If he doesn’t wake up, call you.”

“There is just one more type. Look at me son.” Derek stopped writing and met the Sheriff’s eyes.

“On very rare occasions, he has tonic-clonic or grand mal seizures. The warnings signs are the same, loss of eyes focus and his fuzzy feeling. He’ll drop and once he hits the ground, he’ll shake uncontrollably. Do not try to hold him down or put anything in his mouth. Bracket his head to protect it the best you can and wait it out. It usually only lasts about a minute but trust me, it will feel like forever. He’ll come out of it the same as any of the others, quickly and without issue.”

“Do I call an ambulance?”

The Sheriff ran a hand over his face. “We try to avoid the hospital. They can’t do anything we can’t do at home more comfortably. You call me. Until he hits his head or it last longer than three minutes.”

“What if you’re out on a call?”

“Call Parish. He’s been around us long enough to know what to do.”

“Okay.” Derek went back to frantically writing his notes, trying desperately to get everything written down right.

“Good. He umm” The Sheriff struggled for the right words as his heart spiked and Derek felt his own heart rate rise in response. “His seizures don’t act like you see on TV or read on the internet. They stem from other issues besides electrical misfiring. He comes back to mental awareness immediately after. He doesn’t generally lose bowl or bladder control, though on occasion he may vomit. He’ll be aware enough after one to know if he needs to take his pills. Overall, it could be worse.”

Derek nodded his understanding as he finished his notes.

“I know it’s a lot. But I’m trusting you with my son. I need you to know what to do.”

“I understand sir. Anything else I should know?”

“I think I’ve sufficiently scared you for the night. I’ve covered the important parts anyway.”

Derek nodded, agreeing. He didn’t really know how to handle even basic human sicknesses in the first place, and this was so much more than a stomach bug or a scraped knee.

“Good night sir.”

“Night Hale.” Derek turned to leave. “And Hale, maybe don’t tell him we talked. He isn’t ashamed, but he had been enjoying you not knowing. Makes him feel more normal with you.”

Derek nodded again then left the station, his mind working overdrive as he drove home on autopilot. He kept replaying all the information the Sheriff had given him like a mantra, like memorizing it would keep Stiles from having a fit. He had no idea how he was going to get through his date saying something stupid or giving it away.

\-------  
Derek didn’t get a lot of sleep yet again, but this time it was because he spent half the night on the internet. He wanted to learn everything he could about seizures. 

What he got was a confusing mess. Some people’s conditions were so severe that almost couldn’t live their lives. Others only had one or two seizures in their whole lives. Others had them, but their medications managed them. 

John had said that Stiles medication didn’t really stop him from having the seizures. Derek couldn’t image what that would be like. As a wolf, he never even got sick and all his injuries healed within minutes. He couldn’t image a life where his body betrayed him like Stiles did. 

Derek got to the restaurant early, even thought he had changed clothes three times, unsure of how fancy to dress. Then he had to sneak out his bedroom window, worried his family would ask where he was going in his skinny jeans and his green Henley that brought out his eyes, according to Malia that one time he wore it to the movies with the girls.

He was wound tight, worried about making Stiles like him, but also about saying the wrong thing and giving away what the Sheriff had told him. Then he worried that he was somehow betraying Stiles trust by not telling him that he knew. 

He got a table and a rather frightened looking waitress brought him a drink and scurried away when he told her he was waiting on someone. 

Stiles walked in, early as well, dressed in jeans and a button up. The second he saw Derek he smiled and walked over. 

Derek’s hands were sweating. 

“Hi” He managed, trying to smile and succeeding only in looking constipated. 

“Hi.” Stiles was grinning and Derek could smell the happiness poring off him. “Been waiting long?”

“Long enough to scare off the waitress.” She was nowhere to be found, even though Stiles had sat down and was picking up the menu.

Stiles snorted. “You do have your very scary growling face on. Lighten up sour wolf. I promise I’m tons of fun.”

Derek frowned harder for a moment, then took a deep breath forcing himself to relax and let himself smile.

“There you go. Now you don’t look like you’re about to murder the whole restaurant. Now, Let’s see. What’s good here? Hey, do you like crepes?”

Derek hadn’t been on a lot of dates. Two actually, since high school and Paige, which wasn’t really dating as much as sneaking kisses between classes. But he wasn’t sure they were meant to be like this. 

He knew, intellectually, that it might be awkward. That neither of them might now what to say. That they might not really get along, now that they had a chance to actually spend time together. 

It was nothing like that. 

Stiles was perfect. He talked a lot, practically bouncing in his seat like an untrained puppy, but he asked Derek questions and actually listened to the answers, in a way that no one else did, not even Cora. He wanted to know if he liked being a cop, where he went to school, what movies he liked, if he like baseball. He was thrilled to find out Derek liked to draw, asking questions about his medium preferences, instead of being a judgy asshole like most people were when Derek admitted to his hobby. People seemed to think it was feminine, weak, that someone like Derek shouldn’t want to create beauty in the world. Stiles didn’t though, and only used it as a way to bring books, Stiles own personal hobby, into the conversation. He apparently collected them, as well as read voraciously. He promised to share a few, then continued to ask Derek more about himself. The list of questions for Derek went on and on, scattered in with Stiles own personal preferences. 

By the end of the meal, Derek knew that Stiles always wanted to be a cop, but his dad was dead set against it, so instead he was going to college, major undeclared. He loved movies, the geeker the better and he promised to introduce Derek to the marvel that was the comic book universe. He read to escape the real word and wasn’t really picky with his genre. He liked pancakes but not waffles and preferred sweet to salty and he could never say no to any homemade treat. He was apparently the only one in his family that could cook, but the others still tried. 

They finished their meal but continued to sit and talk as the restaurant emptied, Derek laughing as Stiles nearly knocked over his coffee as he expressed how unfair it was that the Mets almost never played on the local TV stations. 

“Ha ha ha. Laugh it up fuzzball.” Stiles had grabbed the cup before it spilled, but it hadn’t been graceful.

“What, are these not the droids you’re looking for?”

Stiles face light up. “Oh my god, you’ve seen Star Wars?”

“Of course I’ve seen Star Wars. Who hasn’t?”

“Ummm Scott and Melissa. They are heathens, heathens I tell you. I’ve watched them all, multiple times. Original trilogy or the prequels? It’s got to be originals right. Everything else has been crap. Well the recent ones are good too I guess, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Derek’s face fell. Scott he knew. He remembered him from the first night he met Stiles and Stiles had since brought him up half a dozen times. In addition to being his brother, they were clearly best friends. 

Scott wasn’t the problem. Derek’s stomach twisted at the mention of Melissa and he had the urge to run. He had forgotten Stiles had had a girlfriend. No one at the station had brought her up, after all, even though they knew he and Stiles had a date. He thought maybe they had broken up.

Shit. He never should have agreed to this. His face flushed and he motioned the now tired looking waitress over, asking for the check. 

Stiles’ grin dropped as Derek struggled to keep himself in the booth. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Derek didn’t want to be talked into any sort of infidelity. No one deserved that. “I figured you had things to do today, people to see. We are the only one’s here anyway and I’m sure they are ready for us to go.”

It wasn’t too late. Nothing had happened between them yet. No one had cheated. Maybe they could still be friends. 

No. Even twisting with uncertainty instead of burst with excitement, Stiles scent was intoxicating. He smelled like cinnamon and home, like pack, even though he had never been to the Hale house.

If Derek stayed anywhere near Stiles, he was going to kiss him. And he didn’t want to be that guy.

The waitress was quick in bring the check and Derek had never been so grateful for good customer service and the distraction it brought from Stiles frowning at him in confusion  
.   
Derek made a motion to pay, but Stiles slid the check out of his grasp and throwing down some cash. “Nope. No way. I invited you. I’m paying.”

“But I thought you were a broke college student.”

Stiles smiled, but it was more guarded than it had been earlier almost brittle, like he knew the date was falling apart. “College student yes. Never said I was broke.”

Stiles didn’t need change, so they just left, walking out into the afternoon sun. Stiles started to say something, but Derek cut him off.

“I had a nice time. I’ll see you around.”

Stiles looked upset by the obvious brush off but Derek wasn’t going to be the other guy. He had standards. He started off towards his Camaro but stopped annoyed when he realized Stiles wasn’t walking toward the parking lot. He signed and walked back to where Stiles was, still on the sidewalk and looking at his phone, frowning as he punched the keys.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Scott’s already at work and Melissa isn’t picking up. I don’t have a ride.”

Derek shuffled awkwardly. “I can drop you off?”

He didn’t really want to. He was worried that if he was in a small enclosed space with Stiles that he would lose all his willpower and agree to be whatever secret Stiles wanted him to be. Stiles scent would overpower him and he would kiss him over and over until their aromas were hopelessly intertwined and everyone knew who Stiles belonged to. 

“No it’s fine. There’s a bus stop not too far from here and it’s a nice day for a walk.”

Derek was torn. He wanted to escape this terrible date that he never should have agreed on, but he also didn’t want to leave Stiles alone and upset on the street.

“Dude, it’s alright. I know how to get on a bus. Maybe Melissa will get back to me before it gets here.” Stiles was grinning, but it was all teeth and no humor. “I’m not a helpless little boy, you know. I though we established that after about the second time you tried to arrest me.”

“Fine, whatever. Let your girlfriend get you.”

Stiles face twisted. “Girlfriend? I haven’t had a girlfriend, literally ever.”

Derek rolled his eyes over the idea of human semantics. “Whatever you call her then. She can take care of you.”

“Wait, you mean Melissa?”

Derek nodded curtly.

“Dude, Melissa is my stepmom, Mrs. Sheriff. She has been taking care of me for like forever. So, ewwww. Gross. Plus like way way too old. Not that she is old but I’m not in the market for a cougar.”

Stiles heart didn’t lie. Derek staggered, completely relieved. 

“Is that why you went all cold and silent on me? Cause you thought I had a girlfriend? I would never cheat. Melissa’s husband cheated and let me tell you, it rips families apart. It’s awful. I’m a little offended you thought I could be that kind of person, though I guess we still don’t know each other, omff.”

Derek grabbed Stiles face midsentence and kissed him, soft and chaise, like he had wanted to all during their four-hour brunch.

Stiles lips were soft. He didn’t lean into the kiss, but he didn’t pull back either. 

They broke away. Derek couldn’t read Stiles face. His eyes were wide, and he was a little pale. He touched his lips like he couldn’t believe what had happened. 

Derek panicked. “I’m sorry! I should have asked or something. I shouldn’t have assumed. I can…”

This time Derek was the one cut off as Stiles launched himself at him. They were roughly the same height, though Derek had about an inch of Stiles, and their lips slotted together perfectly as they each cocked their heads separate ways.

This kiss wasn’t chaise. It was heat and wandering hands, headless of the fact they were on a public sidewalk in the middle of the day. Stiles tongue flicked Derek’s lips and he gladly let it in, and fuck, this was hot. 

“Fuck.” Stiles finally broke it off with a gasp, still holding onto Derek’s shirt with his hands like the wolf had literally taken his breathe away. “Let’s do that again. Somewhere private. Like now. Right now.”

Derek grinned and pulled Stiles towards his car. He knew just the place.

\------  
Derek knew every quiet place in the preserve, and he knew the routs the cops patrolled. He knew that here, nestled on a dirt road between the trees, they would be safe. 

Stiles took Derek’s word for it, immediately throwing himself at Derek as soon as the car was parked. 

It was hot. Derek’s didn’t have tons of past experiences, but he was pretty sure no one should be that good with a tongue. Or at kissing. Or, fuck, those hands that wouldn’t stay still, palming at his dick then darting up to run through Derek’s hair. 

It wasn’t until Stiles was straddling him and they were both too tight in their jeans as they desperately rocked their hips, searching for friction that Derek thought they might be going a little too fast. 

“Wait.” He said, pulling Stiles’ lips off him. Stiles lips were swollen from the passionate kissing and his cheeks were red from Derek’s stubble. His pupils were so large the amber of his eyes was barely visible. 

Stiles whined at the interruption and started kissing his neck, running his tongue down and nipping right at his collarbone. 

“Fuck.” If Derek hadn’t been hard before, he was now. His cock throbbed uncomfortably in his pants and he grabbed the leather seats, trying to keep himself from coming right then. 

“Did you take a class on how to please a werewolf or something?”

Stiles looked up from the hickey he was sucking on Derek’s peck. It disappeared almost immediately, and Derek regretted not slowing his healing so it could stay. He would have to next time.

“What?”

Stiles eyes were cloudy now and Derek knew he right in slowing them down. Hell, they probably shouldn’t hadn’t even gone this far on a first date.

“I said, did you take a class on how to make a werewolf come?” Derek said in a teasing tone.

“No. I took one on interpersonal relationships between the species, but I don’t think they taught fallatio or fucking at my college. If they had, a couple of girls in my dorm would already have their masters. Not that they ever showed me.”

Stiles grinned wickedly and made a move to go back at it, but Derek held up a hand to stop him, now that the thought was in his head.

“You said you haven’t had a girlfriend. Have you had lots of boyfriends?”

“That’s a weird question to ask on a first date.”

It was. Derek would hate it if anyone asked about Paige. But he was a little concerned about Stiles experience level. He didn’t want to take advantage of the younger man but Stiles wasn’t acting inexperienced. Fuck, he had no idea how to do this.

“Stiles.”

He pulled off Derek and clumsily crawled back over onto the passenger seat, swearing when he hit his knee on the dash before setting with his hands across his chest. 

“Lydia was my first kiss okay. And before you get all possessive, it was a pity kiss. But she was good and I asked her to teach me a few years later, when it became clear I wasn’t going to naturally be one of those guys that could be flawlessly sexual.”

Stiles eyes flickered over to Derek as he flushed. 

“There was a couple of boys and a few girls at school. Nothing serious. No one stayed for breakfast.”

He sounded a little bitter about it. Derek reached over and unwound Stiles’ arms from his chest then grabbing his hand.

“Sounds like their loss.” Whoever didn’t want this amazing man beside him was stupid. It was just their first date, but Derek could already tell he was going to fall hard.

“What about you?”

Derek should have expected that. Turn about was fair play.

“I dated a girl in high school. It ended badly.” Badly was the understatement of the century. It ended in blood and pain and suffering. Derek shook his head to push away the memory. It had taken a long time, but he had moved past Paige’s death. “I dated a bit in college, but it was hard. If I told them I was a sup, they didn’t want anything to do with me. If I didn’t, then I was the guy keeping a massive secret.”

“Shit, that sucks.”

“Yeah.” It was getting dark. “I just don’t want to ruin a good thing by moving too fast.”

Derek expected disappointment, but instead Stiles smiled shyly. “You think this might be a good thing?”

Derek laughed, an honest and full thing from his belly, a laugh he wasn’t even sure he could still manage. He kissed Stiles softly and started the car. “Yes, Stiles. I think this might be a good thing.”

\-------  
Derek dropped Stiles at his house, declining to come in, as there the Sheriff’s cruiser was in the driveway. 

“He’s not going to eat you.” Stiles looked amused as he climbed out of the car.

“I don’t want to risk it. Today was too good to ruin with murder.”

Stiles smiled and leaned over for a kiss. He climbed out of the car, then jumped back in before Derek could even put it in drive. 

“Wait, shit.”

“What?”

“Give me your phone.”

Derek handed it over without question.

“Now you have my number. Text me anytime. I’ll be waiting.”

Stiles pretended to toss his hair, before laughing and jumping out of the car. 

Derek looked at the new contact programmed in his phone. Stiles had saved himself as A Good Thing.

Fuck, he was in so deep.

\-----  
Derek couldn’t stop smiling as he drove home. His face actually hurt from it. 

He chose to climb back in the window rather than going his family at dinner. He immediately stripped his clothes, shoving them under his pillows to preserve the scent, determinedly not thinking of how intimate it would be to sleep surrounded by Stiles’ aroma. 

He showered, finally taking the time to take care of himself. He came with his hand around his cock and Stiles’ name on his lips.

He changed into sweats and feel into bed, surrounded by Stiles’ scent, but none of it on his skin. He didn’t want to share, not yet, and Cora or Malia might recognize the scent. He had to work tomorrow, so he would hopefully be able to escape the interrogation about where he had been at least until dinner tomorrow. 

He was nearly asleep to images of Stiles laughing as he was held safe in Derek’s arm when he realized that he hasn’t once thought about Stiles seizures while they were on a date. Stiles didn’t have an episode and Derek didn’t even think about it.

Maybe they weren’t as big of deal as the Sheriff was making them out to be. Maybe Stiles had a better handle on them than his father thought.

Either way, Derek decided not to worry about it. Right now, he was happy. He had had an awesome date, an amazing make out session, and a hot guy’s phone number. 

It was perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to explain epilepsy and seizures as respectfully as possible. Both will be talked about and portrayed later, so if any of this bothers you, you might want to stop here. It's also important to note that I am taking creative liberties with the disorder, because it is magical in nature, not physical. Several things are inaccurate on purpose, because of the nature that plot needs to follow.


	6. Chapter 6

Derek woke up to his phone chirping. He groaned at the early hour, then rolled over to check his phone, unable to ignore it just in case it was important. 

[A Good Thing]  
Good Morning.

Derek couldn’t help but smile as he looked at that beautiful message. No one had ever texted him good morning before. He wanted to think of something nice to say back, but his sleep sticky eyes and mussy brain wouldn't let him. Stiles, he didn’t want to Stiles to think that he didn’t care.

[Derek]  
It’s too early for words.

[A Good Thing]  
Not a morning person then. I’ll keep that in mind.

Derek didn’t have time to respond before another text rolled in.

[A Good Thing]  
Want to come over this evening after shift? Dad works evenings this week and Melissa is on thirds so it’s just me and Scott.

Derek heart jumped at the thought of seeing Stiles again, but before he could reply, there was a sharp knock on his door. Cora barged in without waiting for permission, way too chipper for the early hour.

“You better be wearing pants,” she said as she jumped onto the bed. 

“Cora, privacy.” He scolded, turning her words from the other night back on her. 

She scoffed at him, then grinned wolfishly. “So, where were you last night? You skipped dinner by sending Mom a text. She was kinda pissed.”

Well shit. He had hoped no one would notice, or at least no one would care.

“I just had some stuff to do.”

“Stuff that kept you out all day?” Cora plopped down on the pillow as Derek sat up, wishing he was an only child. 

“You need to find something to do besides stalk me.”

“Not stalking. I didn’t follow you or anything creepy. Just noticed. What’s that smell? It's nice.”

“Nothing.” If Cora found his clothes covered in Stiles' scent, he could never hear the end of it. It was strange, ever for a wolf, to sleep with a partner’s scent under their bedding. At least this early in a courtship. 

“Uh, huh. Sure.” 

“Cora.” Derek whined. “I have to get ready for work. You know, since some of us do that.”

Cora’s face fell a little and Derek frowned. He didn’t mean to actually hurt her feelings. He just wanted her out of his room before she found the source of the scent.

“No call backs for the job search?”

“Nope. Everyone says they are full, but three places still have out help wanted signs. Malia tried to get me on at her restaurant, but the owner won’t hire me because we’re family. Say’s we won’t work as hard."

Derek wrapped an arm around Cora in a half hug. “I’m sorry pup.”

“It’s fine.” She gave a weak smile. “I’ll just have to stalk you until something comes up.”

“Get out.”

Cora stuck her tongue out before disappearing. Derek got out his phone from under the covers where he had been hiding it from his sister.

[Derek]  
I’ll be there.

\---------  
Derek went to work feeling particularly jittery. He tried to ignore the heavy eyes of the Sheriff as they watched him at his desk. But his boss never said anything, so Derek didn’t either. He tried to act as normal as possible and hoped people would treat him as such. 

Parish did not, clapped him on the shoulder, after giving him a sniff. 

“Good choice.”

Derek blushed, knowing the other sup could smell the fact they didn’t have sex, even if hellhounds didn’t have the same level increased sense of smell of wolves.

His day seemed to drag on and on. It was mostly paperwork, though he did join Parish on a run to take the statement of a wendigo who claimed her car had been vandalized as part of a hate crime. She seemed to be right, but her car was a mess. All the windows were smashed and there were slurs spray painted on it, but there were no witness or camera’s so they could really do was file a report. 

It sucked, but Derek tried not to dwell on it. He had other things to think about. Namely a certain tall young man with sunshine eyes and a smile to die for. 

\------  
Derek left the office at a run, rushing to change out of his uniform in record time. He was in such a hurry that he literally ran into his mom as he leaped down the stairs. His alpha grabbed his arms, keeping him upright as Derek regained his balance. Talia stared him down, eyes glowing a dim red. 

“You missed dinner last night.”

“I know.” Derek hung his head. He knew family dinners were important to her. “Sorry.”

“Next time at least call. I worried. Anyone could have had your phone and sent that text.”

But his mom didn’t look mad, only questioning as she glanced at his rather nice outfit. Nicer than he usually wore after shift. He usually wore sweats and a t-shirt, not a jeans and a button up.

“Sorry.” Derek repeated then turned to go, hopping she would take the hint. “But I’ll probably miss tonight too.”

“Where are you going now?”

This is exactly what Derek didn’t want-a bunch of people prying into his life. That was the problem with having a close pack, they were always so noisy. 

“Mom. I’m just going to hang out with some friends.”

“You don’t have any friends.” Peter appeared from nowhere, eyes sharp as they took in his outfit as well. 

“I could. I can make friends.” Derek resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at his uncle but he did shoot him a glare.

“Maybe if there were other wolves in town, but we know there isn’t. So, your making friends with humans. How cute.”

“I don’t like this.” Talia’s eyes were glowing a little brighter now. “Spending time with human. It could be a trap.”

“Mom.” Derek whined. “I’m a grown man. I’m a cop. I can have friends and a life outside the pack. And humans aren’t dangerous. Not anymore than anyone else.”

Derek believed that. He became a cop because he believed it. Humans and sups could both be good and bad. It was the people, not their species. 

“Of course, you can,” Peter answered “But why would you ever want to. Considering how your last relationship with a human ended.”

His uncle trialed off, implying once again the tragedy that was Paige’s death was Derek’s fault. 

It was, of course. But he didn't need to constantly be reminded of it. 

Derek snarled, eyes glowing blue. “This is nothing like that.”

“I hope not.” Peter replied mildly, before stalking away.

Talia put a hand on his shoulder. “I trust you Derek. I just worry. It’s my job.”

“I know I know. Alpha instinct.”

“I meant as a mom.” She pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Keep your secrets. Just know I’m here when you’re ready for it not to be a secret.”

Derek practically ran out the door, grateful that his mother understood.

\--------  
Derek knocked on the door, trying not to feel so nervous. Stiles had invited him. He was allowed to be here.

The door flew open but it wasn’t Stiles standing there, though Derek could hear someone moving around somewhere upstairs, so he was home at least. 

“Huh.” The other man said, “I pictured you as taller. You seemed taller the other night.”

Derek’s instinct was to snarl. Instead, he stuck his hand out, trying to make a better impression of Stiles' brother this time. “You must be Scott.”

“You must be the asshole that tried to arrest my brother. Twice. We've met.”

Derek scratched his neck uncomfortably. This wasn’t going well. 

“I’m sorry?”

“Hurt him and you will be.” 

Derek nodded emphatically. “I understand.”

“Then we’re good.” Scott stepped aside. His face melted into a much more welcoming look and he patted Derek on the back as he ushered him in. “Come in.”

Scott led him through a well-worn but clean entry way into a rather cluttered living room, packed full of family photos on the walls and keepsakes on the shelves. There was a lot of furniture crammed in the room as well, two soft looking couches, an armchair and a nice entertainment center. 

Scott sat down on one couch and gestured for Derek to make himself comfortable. Derek braced himself for an interrogation, but instead, Scott pulled out his phone and started playing a game, ignoring him completely. 

“So, Stiles is here right?” Derek knew he was, he could hear his heartbeat upstairs, but it seemed weird to be downstairs without him. Maybe Stiles didn’t really want him here and was hiding. 

“Yep.” Scott popped the p. “He’ll be right down.”

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Stiles made his way down the stairs. 

“Hey Derek.” He was smiling broadly, but he looked pale and he was moving slowly and stiffly. Derek frowned and moved toward the younger man; teeth clenched as he smelled the bitter stench of pain. 

It didn’t take long to find the cause. There was a mark on his cheek, a bruise, half covered by some sort of paste. Derek glowered at Stiles, hand reaching out to touch his face. He let his fingers ghost over the mark, not wanting to put pressure on it and make it hurt worse but unable to see someone he cared about hurt and ignore it. 

“What. Happened.” Derek growled out. 

Stiles bright eyes flickered away from Derek’s face to the floor. “Calm down crazy. I banged it on the bathroom counter. If you’re going to hang out with me, you need to get used to bruises. I’m super clumsy.”

“True that.” Scott supplied. 

Stiles heart didn’t lie, but something about what he said didn’t sit right with Derek. He didn’t like the way he wouldn't meet Derek’s eyes. But he let Stiles pull him over to one of the couches without saying anything, not wanting to push and start a fight. 

“Want to watch a movie?” Stiles asked, throwing his feet up on the coffee table. Scott kicked them back down.

“Mom will kill you if you scuff up the table again.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at his brother but didn’t put them back up. Instead he pulled over a cushioned footrest for he and Derek to share.

“Sure.”

Stiles flipped on Rocky and settled in, his arm thrown over Derek shoulder. Derek was used to cuddling with the pack, but this was so much nicer somehow. Derek leaned into Stiles subtly trying to get a hit of the paper, sugan, and cinnamon scent that made up Stiles. 

Derek frowned when he found it, but mixed with the bitter scent of ozone. He didn’t understand why Stiles smelled like that so often. It wasn’t a normal scent for humans or magic users. He tried to ignore it as he focused on the classic movie playing on the TV.

Scott made popcorn at some point and Stiles got them all sodas. It turned out that Stiles was an interactive movie watcher. Even with a classic like this, he commented on action, pointed out plot holes and spouted out fun facts. Derek didn’t mind. In fact, he found it more entertaining than the actual movie. 

It wasn’t until the final fight scene that Stiles calmed down and snuggled against Derek. His cheek was warm against Derek shoulder. Derek smiled softly and let out a quiet rumble of contentment. 

The movie ended but Stiles didn’t seem interested in getting Derek to leave. He ordered a meat lovers pizza and they chatted while they waited on delivery.

The pizza came and Derek devoured it, as did Scott. Stiles picked at his, acting almost too tired to eat.

“I can go anytime.”

Stiles looked up from his slice, frowning.

“Do you want to go?”

“No, not really. But you seem tired.”

“I’m always tired.” Scott made a noise behind them and Stiles shot his brother a look. “Stay. Please.”

They settled back in; Stiles warm against him. He was much more subdued as they started Rocky II, not talking at all but leaning hard against Derek. It reminded him of how Cora used to be after a long day at school, all cuddles and sweetness. 

If fact, Stiles felt a lot like a wolf, almost burning against him. 

Derek stiffened. The hand on the Stiles arm was too hot. Now that he had noticed it, it was all he could feel, the heat coming off him in waves. Derek didn’t know much about human health, but he knew this wasn’t good. 

“Stiles.” Derek pushed him gently with his shoulder. 

“What?”

“Do you have a fever?”

Scott perked up at that, finally looking up from his phone and frowning at his brother. 

“Yeah maybe? It’s fine.”

Derek looked at Scott, concerned. “If you’re sick, you should be in bed.”

Scott looked worried too. “You said it wasn’t that bad earlier.”

“Yeah, well I didn’t think it was.” Stiles seemed slow and spacy, compared to his normal quick wit. Derek’s anxiety shot up a little more.

“Do you need a doctor?”

Stiles snorted. “No I need a Tylenol and my pillow to stay still and stop talking.”

Derek rolled his eyes and fought down his growing anxiety. If Stiles was feeling well enough to be a smart ass, surely he was alright.

Scott brought Stiles a pill and Stiles took it and settled back, but Derek couldn’t quiet relax, not with Scott watching his brother with such worried eyes. 

\-------  
The next few days consisted of more texting than Derek had done in his whole life. Stiles seemed to have two modes, completely on, or totally off. Which meant he was firing off messages every five seconds about random tangents and interesting thoughts. Or he didn’t answer with more than one word for hours at a time. He always apologized when he stopped responding, but never made excuses. 

Derek didn’t mind. He couldn’t have his phone at work, so he had to wait for his breaks to answer anyway. He assumed Stiles was doing whatever a college student on break would do, sleeping, working, hanging with friends, and just forgot to properly answer.

Derek didn’t have a chance to actually talk to Stiles about it for a few days. Summer was in full swing, and it was like all the violence in the city had spilled over into the streets. It felt like every human had a gun and every supernatural was prowling where they shouldn’t be. Tensions were high, yet again, that was for sure, and it tricked down into the pack from Derek’s pack bonds. 

So far, they had avoided the worst of the hate themselves. Most people knew Talia was the alpha and tended to leave her alone, other than the occasional half whispered slur. Peter was too terrifying to even whisper about. But Malia had slipped up at work, flashed her eyes on accident when a customer threw a plate at her, and ever since then, had been forced to deal with the shoves and nastiness that came with being different. She hadn’t been fired, luckily, but it was rough for her right now. 

Derek wished he could save her. But anything he did, either as a brother or a cop, would just make it worst. They just had to make do with extra cuddles and Cora and Malia sticking together anytime they weren’t at home. 

Derek was working doubles anyway, and busy as hell. He had been coming home too tired to do much more than fire off a few texts to Stiles and lay on the couch with his family. He hated that he couldn’t see Stiles, but Stiles assured him that it was fine, that he understood.

To add to the tension Derek felt, the Sheriff was suddenly watching his every move, like he was waiting on Derek to make a mistake. It made Derek’s neck prickle and his stomach churn. He hadn’t thought the Sheriff was speciest. He had always seemed fair before, treating Derek the same as all the other deputies, but all the staring was starting to make him think maybe he was wrong. 

It wasn’t until Sunday that Derek finally had a day off, though he was technically on call. He spent the morning lazing around in his PJ’s, cuddling on the couch with Cora and Malia until Malia had to go in for the evening shift, praying that he woudn’t get called in. Normally the pack would have dinner, but Talia had been called away on pack business, and had taken Peter. It worried all the kids, but their mom had assured them it was just posturing from the neighboring packs, nothing more. 

Still, Derek would feel better when they were all home. 

Cora made a face, watching Malia go get ready for work. Derek shoved her shoulder in solidarity. He knew how much Cora hated that she didn’t have a job. 

It wasn’t about money. The pack payed for everything, all the school, cars, food, clothes, the works. And the pack was well off, very well off. But every working adult contributed to the pack fund, unlike the kids who only profited from it. Cora wanted so badly to be and adult, to support her pack, since she was benefiting from it, but thanks to speciest assholes, she couldn’t. 

“You’ll find something.” Derek reassured. 

Cora flipped the TV channel. “June’s half over. If I haven’t found something yet, I’m not going to.”

Derek decided to leave her to her sulking and went to go get a snack. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging, halfway through a jumbo-sized bag of chips when his phone went off.

[A Good Thing]  
Did you know that in Switzerland its illegal to own only one guinea pig. Apparently, they get lonely. Just like humans do Derek. 

[A Good Thing]  
Like this human is. Because his awesome new friend is always working

Derek couldn’t help but smile at that. Stiles though he was awesome. His awesome friend. Though Derek felt like he was okay with going ahead and using the label boyfriend. Sure, it was fast, but he liked the way his stomach got warm when he thought about introducing Stiles as his boyfriend. And it wasn’t like they were getting married or anything.

[A Good Thing]  
By the way, my dad’s at work. So is Melissa. And Scott has his bonehead friend over and I’m banished from our room for trying to inspire some decent conversation with my ‘stupid facts.’

[A Good Thing]  
My facts are awesome

[A Good Thing]  
And my house is desperately low on food

[Derek]  
I’m off call in thirty minutes.

[A Good Thing]  
The Ice Cream Shoppe?

[Derek]  
I’ll be there.

Derek changed and called out a goodbye to his sister, who just grunted as Derek rushed out the door. 

\------  
Derek beat Stiles to the shop because his bus ran late. Derek mentally kicked himself for not offering a ride, but Stiles didn’t seem at all bothered, grabbing Derek hand and pulling him into line, talking about which ice cream was the best and what they should order. 

Apparently, the best type was cookies and cream followed by mint chocolate chip, but only if it was hand scooped. If it was soft serve, it was chocolate all the way. Derek agreed for the most part, though he had a soft spot for rocky road as well. Stiles face lit up as he mentioned it.

“Oh, I forgot about rocky road. This changes everything.”

By the time they got to the front of the line, they had argued every type of ice cream, and Derek was starving. He was grateful the shop offered real food as well as ice cream.

Derek ordered a double cheeseburger, a small chicken nugget meal, a large fry, and cheese sticks because they were amazing here. He topped it off with a chocolate shake. Stiles got a small hand dipped rocky road and an order of fries. They took their seat and waited for their food, Stiles waving excitedly at some girl across the way. 

“Hey that’s my friend. I didn’t know she had moved back to town. Hey Heather!”

The girl, Heather, looked thrilled to see Stiles. She abandoned her food and the man she had been eating with to come over. The man glared at Stiles, but he ignored it in favor of beaming at Heather. 

“You’re back in town!”

“Hey. Long time no see. Yep, Dad moved back about a year ago, and once I graduated, I came too. It’s been nice to be home. How are you?” She asked, putting emphasis on the questions and giving Stiles a significant look. 

Stiles gave a quick glance at Derek before answering. “Great. Really great, super healthy and whatnot. Anyway, this is Derek. Derek, this is Heather. Heather Holt.”

“Derek Hale right?”

Derek couldn’t help the frown that played on his face at her already knowing him, when he didn’t know her. 

“Sorry that probably seemed stalkerish. I work with Laura at the hospital and she talks about you sometimes.”

“You’re a nurse too?” Derek asked, trying to discreetly sniff and see if the excitement coming of Stiles at seeing the girl was sexual or not, then stopped himself as he realized how rude that was. 

“I wish. No, I’m a pharmacy tech, but I work at the hospital.”

“That’s nice.”

“Yeah.” Heather twisted a hung of hair around her finger, clearly nervous now that she was talking to Derek. “Anyway, I better get back to Matt. It was good seeing you Stiles. You look great.”

“Yeah you too. I’ll text you later. Same number right? Maybe we can double date.”

“Same number. Yeah, sounds good.”

Derek tried not to glare as she walked away. 

“She was my babysitter for a couple months in middle school. Well, not babysitter as much as local kid my dad paid to make sure I didn’t set anything on fire even though she was literally only two years older. See, her dad worked with my dad and they usually worked the same shifts. After my mom died, it was decided that I wasn’t responsible enough to be left alone after school, Heather came over. But she moved after I was, after she started high school. But I guess she’s back.”

Stiles took Derek hand as he spoke and any jealously Derek had vanished. Stiles had never talked about his mother before, and although Derek had figured out she and the Sheriff hadn’t simply divorced, he hurt him to know Stiles had lost her. “She seems nice.”

“She is. Her boyfriend sucks though I went to school with him too, and holy shit Derek.” Stiles said, as the poor waitress delivered a tray practically bursting with food. 

“What? Werewolf metabolism. We have to eat a lot.” Derek smirked, taking a bite. It was true, werewolves generally had to eat twice as much as humans just to function. Plus the more often that they shifted, the more energy they used, so they sometimes needed even more than that. It led to some hefty grocery bills, but his family could afford it. Derek felt bad for less established packs that couldn’t. 

“You should eat more,” Derek said with a frown at Stiles’ small side of fries. He pushed the cheese sticks and a few chicken nuggets at him.

“I’m just never hungry. I...”

Stiles suddenly went stock still, his scent flooding with ozone and a hint of something burning. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked, dropping his burger. 

Shit. Derek wasn’t certain if this was a seizure or not. If it was an absent one. He thought it might be. Stile’s eyes were still open, only a bit foggy. His heart and breathing seemed fine. But he wasn’t responding to Derek’s cry or when he shook Stiles arm.

Derek struggled to remember what to do. It felt like so long ago he had taken notes in the Sheriff’s office. Finally, his brain kicked in and he got his phone out to begin timing, wondering if a minute had actually already passed, or if he should call the Sheriff.

“I like food, I just never want to eat it, you know. I would rather bake and watch other people enjoy it.” Stiles blinked and kept talking like there hadn’t been an interruption and Derek wasn’t freaking out in front of him. He glanced at Derek’s lit up phone screen. “Did you get a text or something?

Derek shook his head and turned off his phone. He slumped in relief; appetite gone. But he remembered the instructions from the Sheriff. Act like nothing happened. Stiles smelled okay, though he looked less bright eyed than he had before. It was fine.

He put away his phone and picked up his burger, trying to think of a way to distract Stiles from how weird he was acting. “Maybe you just need some motivation.”

Derek ran his foot up Stiles leg and smirked when Stiles jumped and his scent flooding with arousal, clearly not having expected it. 

“Think you can help me work up an appetite?” Stiles took a slow bite of ice cream, liking it off the spoon and looking at Derek though his lashes and fuck. Derek fidgeted in his chair, trying not to get a hard-on in an ice cream shop. 

Luckily for Derek, the innuendos stopped there as they both focused on their meals, Stiles eating a few bites of the offered chicken nuggets and two cheese sticks. Derek counted it as a win. 

The check came and once again, Stiles grabbed it up before Derek could, paying cash once again. 

Derek crossed his arms, not getting up when Stiles did and glaring, feeling a little childish but angry all the same.

“What?”

“It’s not fair that you keep paying for things. I’m the one with a full-time job.”

“Hey, what makes you think I don’t have a job. I have two, actually.” Stiles said, while pulling Derek out of the chair and waving goodbye to the waitress cleaning their table.

“Two?” It would explain why Stiles was too busy to text sometimes, why he always looked so worn down. “Is one at the library? I see you there all the time.” 

They walked down the street going nowhere in particular. Derek wondered if it would be weird if he grabbed Stiles hand.

Stiles looked away, running a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah. I do some tutoring there. I also work as a sort of contractor for the government sometimes. It’s complicated.”

“You work for the government? That’s amazing. You must be like, super smart.”

Derek had a rush of inadequacy. He did okay at school, but he was no genius. 

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really do anything to get the job. It was kinda a right time, right place. I’m really not special. Just a normal kid.”

Derek stopped short, and threw an arm out forcing Stiles to stop as well. “Stiles Nowak, you are very, very special. Never doubt that.”

Stiles eyes show bright under the setting sun. 

“I wish it was that easy for everyone to find a job.” Derek, said changing the subject to something less heated, thinking of Cora and her work troubles. 

Stiles have him a long look and grabbed Derek’s hand, intertwining their fingers. Derek flushed, pleased. “The contract work kinda fell into my lap. I don’t do it that often, so I supplement with the tutoring, but dude it really is that easy.”

“It’s really not.” Derek felt a hint of frustration, not at Stiles exactly, but at how he wasn’t understanding. “Not everyone is a supernaturally friendly as your father.”

“It totally is. Tutoring is actually one of the best things to do for sups, because it doesn’t always have to be in person. I meet one girl who needs a lot of help at the library, but I have two other kids that I do completely online. Webcam.”

“But you probably had to have training?”

“Nope.” Stiles popped the p and stopped to watch a couple walking a puppy cross the road. “You just have to prove you are knowledgeable in whatever area the kids need help in. So, show off your diplomat or your above average grades or whatever. Then website sets you up with kids who need help in that area. It only pays ten bucks an hour, but it’s better than fast food or whatever, and the hours are generally flexible.”

Stiles pulled out his phone with the hand that wasn’t holding Derek. “I’ll text Cora and tell her how to sign up.”

“That would be amazing. You have her number?” 

“Yep. I’ve been texting her all summer.” A faint flush crept up Stiles face and Derek wondered if Stiles was the boy Cora had been texting and if they had been texting about him. 

“Besides, it’s no problem. Anything for a friend, right?”

It would have been a great time to bring up the whole boyfriends thing, but instead Stiles caught a look at the time and tugged Derek back towards the bus stop.

“Shit. I have to run. Dad has me on a curfew because Scott blabbed about the wandering at night thing again and he’s going to be home soon.”

"You're sleepwalking again?"

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "Yes. And I'm taking care of it. Scott put a tracker on my phone."

Derek raised his hand in surrender, though worry was stirring in his gut. "That's pretty smart."

Stiles smiled at the compliment. "You're forgiven."

“I’ll give you a ride.” Derek said, not at all thinking how wonderful it would be to have the scent of Stiles back in his car. Stiles just smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek. 

"Thanks."


	7. Chapter 7

When Derek got home from work the next day, the house was a lot louder than usual. The second he opened the door he was greeted by an absolute screeching noise, coming from the living room, and then the sound of Laura and Malia trying to talk over each other, practically shouting something that it was too difficult to make out.

No one was in danger. The pack bonds were all calm, though Cora’s was practically pulsing with joy and Malia’s was mischievous. Despite knowing how dangerous it could be to get involved his sister’s business, Derek let his curiosity get the better of him and walked towards the din.

He walked in to see Cora and Malia on either end of the couch, smashing the person in the middle to the point he couldn’t tell who it was. Malia was yelling at Laura, who sounded like she was in the kitchen but still yelled back. Cora was the one screeching excitedly as she typed on her computer, pressing a kiss on the cheek of the person in the middle, who looked a lot like,

“Stiles?”

“Hey Derek.” Stiles looked a little embarrassed, but not at all worried that he was in the middle of a puppy pile in a strange pack house. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I texted Cora about the tutoring, only she had some trouble setting up her profile, and one thing led to another and now I’m here and she is all set up.”

Stiles said it so matter of fact, like just anyone might be invited into a pack house. Like anyone might drop everything to help out a friend’s sister.

“And apparently I already know your cousin Malia, the hot waitress,” He winked at Malia, who rolled her eyes, but looked pleased, throwing her legs on his lap “but I got to meet Laura, who makes great muffins by the way. I’ve had like five.”

“I’m glad you like them,” Laura said, sweeping back into the room and running a hand over Derek’s back, scenting him in the casual way that was normal for pack. She threw herself on the empty couch, pulled out her phone and got comfortable. 

Derek caught Laura’s eye and tried to convey his absolute confusion, but either she didn’t get it, or didn’t care, because no one explained how Stiles was sitting on his couch, completely drenched in the smell of pack so much that Derek didn’t even smell his boyfriend when he first walked in. He sat down next to her on the couch, not knowing what else to do.

“Derek, are you okay with me being here? Cause you look super uncomfortable. I can totally go. Like right now, I can vanish.”

Of course, Stiles would be the one to pick up on Derek’s confusion.

“No!” It came out a little more desperate than he would have liked. Cora snorted. Malia picked up the remote and switched on the TV, apparently no longer interested in what Stiles was showing Cora. 

“He’s upset he has to share,” Malia said, settling on a show and throwing her legs over Stiles. 

Derek bared his human teeth at her in annoyance. “I was just surprised. That you were here.”

He knew Cora and Malia both knew Stiles, but he didn’t think knowing him was enough to invite him to the house. They were so careful about strangers. They had to be. Hunters were still out there, even if it weren’t legal, and no one could even know who to trust, not completely. 

“Well don’t be.” Cora said, shutting her laptop and snuggling even closer to Stiles. “We like him, hell I liked him first, and we’re keeping him. Get used to it.”  
\------  
It was so easy to get used to it. Stiles fell into Derek’s family without even trying. He started coming over a lot, and not always when Derek was home. It was weird, but also comforting somehow and made Derek like him even more. 

Stiles clicked with all the girls. 

He bonded with Laura primarily over baking, though Stiles was also apparently a wealth of medical information and always ready for a debate over antibiotic regulation, or the which suture should be used for a stab wound. Derek once came home to find the kitchen covered in baked goods but no Stiles, because he had come over when Laura was off shift to help her work on the perfect chocolate chip cookie recipe and left when she did.

He and Malia were a whirlwind of sarcasm and wit, trading barbs whenever they met in the hall or in the kitchen, Stiles grinning as Malia smirked. Derek dreaded the day he met Peter, who Malia had inherited her sharp tongue from. 

Cora attached to Stiles particularly hard as they had similar interests. They both loved superhero movies and fantasy novels, the trashier the better. More than once, Derek had come home to find them curled up on the couch, a movie playing in the background as they fought over who would win in a superhero fight. 

In fact, if Stiles didn’t smell so completely unaroused around Cora, Derek would be jealous. Stiles and Cora had clicked. They were always laughing and smiling, while Derek was still fumbling around for the right words to make Stiles comfortable, to make sure he was content. Derek wasn’t jealous though-the human part of him wasn’t. But the wolf bristled at the sight, the fact it wasn't making him making Stiles happy.

Cora assured him it was all platonic, that she had her eyes on someone else in town and there was no lie in her heart. Derek let it all go, though he still sat closer to Stiles than was normal for humans, trying to drown out anyone else scents with his constant touching of Stiles arms and hands, wanting his mate for himself.

Mate. Derek was getting ahead of himself. They still hadn’t even discussed titles. Hell, they hadn’t even gone any further than a few hot make out sessions. 

Since their first date they had slowed things down, excluding the fact that Stiles was well on his way to becoming pack, though he had yet to meet the alpha. They hung out plenty and texted on days they couldn’t, but only managed to sneak away to Derek’s room and away from his family a few times.

But Derek quickly found that having Stiles in his room was his favorite thing of all time. His scent quickly drenched the room and Derek got to fall asleep to it every night. It was wonderful.

And sure, sometimes they kissed, hands fumbling below the belt but never going under clothes. Sometimes they simply watched a movie, if Stiles was feeling tired and looked pale. 

But on the best days, the days that Stiles was happy and smelled like sunshine, they would sit together. Stiles would read while Derek sketched. Stiles heart would even out as he got engrossed in the story, and his scent would sweeten to the point it was intoxicating. The scent would linger even after Stiles was gone, calming Derek’s wolf in a way nothing else ever had. 

They never went over to the Stilinski house. Stiles had seen the panic in Derek’s eyes at the idea of the Sheriff catching them kissing one day after a close call outside the station and hadn’t invited him back since. 

Derek assured himself that it was fine, that Stiles wouldn’t come over if he wasn’t still interested. That they weren’t in any hurry. But when he came home to Stiles smelling of anyone else, it was so, so hard not to rush. 

Stiles still hadn’t officially met Peter or Talia, though both adults knew about him by now. Talia, it seemed, was intentionally staying away claiming long nights at work and other Alpha duties, though Derek couldn’t figure out why. 

Peter, on the other hand, constantly tried to ambush Stiles and intimidate him, something Derek wanted to avoid as long as possible. Cora and Malia were running interference and doing a pretty good job of it. All Peter had seen of Stiles so far was the back of his head sandwiched between Cora and Derek as they rushed him out the door. 

At least, until Talia announced to Derek that she expected to see Stiles at dinner sometime soon while the pack was relaxing after supper one night. 

Cora’s eyes had gone wide, while Peter leaned back in his chair, both shocked at the invitation. Derek was surprised as well, but pleased. It was a big step, but it felt right. 

“He can come to a pack dinner?” Cora said, nearly bouncing in her chair. 

Derek frowned slightly at the amount of excitement radiating off her. He wanted Stiles to like his family, to be comfortable around the pack, and he was happy they felt the same. But the amount of pure joy his sister found in Stiles was worrysome, not because Derek was jealous but because it showed how truly lonely, she was. He needed to talk to her about it, and soon. 

“No.” Peter’s voice was sharp, even as he pretended to read, trying to give off the impression of indifference. “It won’t be a pack dinner. He isn’t pack and he isn’t going to be.”

Peter looked up and gave Derek a hard look that made Derek bristle. 

“I know that.” Derek snapped. But he didn’t. He knew Stiles wasn’t pack yet, but he hoped one day, maybe, he could be. 

“Either way,” Talia said, stopping the fight before it could begin. “I want to meet him. Find a time that works and invite him Derek.”

Unfortunately, Stiles had some contract work suddenly come up and he was unexpectedly incredibly busy. Derek still didn’t really understand what all it entailed, but it seemed like his job was a pretty big deal, at least according to Parish when Derek asked about it, though he wouldn’t go into any details. 

Stiles was busy all day, for several days, not even getting weekends off. Any communication between them slowed to a stop because of it. After he finally got off work, he was so tired that Derek could hear him slur though the phone when Derek called to wish him goodnight. Derek missed him, but he understood. He didn’t want to pressure Stiles and he certainly didn’t want to make him sick by making him come out when he was already so worn down, so he put the diner invite on the back burner.

The next week had Derek on nights again, so a family dinner was still out. The good news was that Stiles was done working his government job again and sounded brighter over the phone, and his texts came in more often and more energetically. 

He even stopped by the station a few nights, bring Derek coffee and a snack. Both times had been quick, Scott had driven him instead of riding the bus, but it was nice to see Stiles looking well. And if Derek managed a few quick kisses in the supply room, it was just icing on the cake. 

\------  
“Do you want to go to the summer festive with me tonight?” Derek asked, not looking up from his typing. 

Stiles had stopped by to drop of lunch for his dad and had wandered over to Derek’s desk to talk. Derek could feel the Sheriff’s eyes on them and was determined to not stop working. He was tired of the looks his boss was giving him and wasn’t about to give him an excuse for another. 

“Sure!” Stiles said, excitedly. “Care if I bring a few people?”

Derek had hoped to have Stiles all to himself for a change, something that was getting increasingly hard to do, between work schedules and the time his sisters were stealing from him. Just yesterday he found out that not only did Stiles add Laura to his random coffee drop offs, but that he had also started taking Cora to the comic bookstore on Thursdays, when they put the new arrivals out.

Well, Cora drove him, but still. 

He really didn’t mind. In fact he like how much Stiles got along with his family. He hoped, when they finally managed to get it together, his mom and Peter would hit it off as well. They would agree that Stiles was safe for the pack to be around, maybe even that he could be pack someday. Then Derek could finally bring up the whole, let’s be boyfriends and tell everyone how much I care about you, conversation without having to worry. 

On the other hand, it would be nice to meet some of Stiles’ friends, since Stiles knew nearly everyone Derek was friends with. So basically, his pack and Parish, and Parish didn’t really count. He was a work associate more than anything. So just his pack.

He really should try to make more friends. 

“Sounds good. Pick you up at 5?”

Stiles pulled out his phone. “I’ll meet you there. Scott likes to drive me when he can.”

It felt a bit possessive, but Derek didn’t complain. “Alright.” 

Derek took a split second to look up with a grin. Stiles was smiling as well, and fuck that boy was beautiful. Thankfully, for the sake of Derek’s’ job and his dignity, that was when Stiles chose to leave. He blew a kiss and ran out the front door before his dad could yell at him, hollering goodbyes at everyone else. 

Derek to back to work. He didn’t want to give the Sheriff an excuse to hold him over and make him late, like he had started doing lately. It was nowhere near as bad as working for Berns had been, but it still wasn’t nice. 

He got ready to leave at four, giving him just enough time to get home and change before meeting Stiles. He was nearly out the door when the Sheriff stopped him.

“Hale. A word?”

Derek walked into his office, trying not to let how much he didn’t want to go show on his face. 

“So,” John said as Derek sat. “Things with Stiles are going well?”

“I would like to think so sir.”

“Good. No problems with his condition?”

“No sir.

There hadn’t been. In fact, other than the one time at the ice cream shop, Derek wasn’t sure Stiles had had any more seizures around him at all. His eyes hadn’t gone foggy and unnaturally still and he definitely hadn’t collapsed. Sure, Stiles zoned out a lot and still smelled like chemicals and medicine, but Derek was starting to think that was just him. None of his sisters had noticed anything weird, or it they did, they hadn’t said anything to Derek.

“Good.”

The Sheriff ran a hand over the back of his head.

“So, I haven’t seen much of Stiles lately. He’s been over at your place?”

Derek nodded, unsure of where this was going. “He likes my sisters.”

“That’s good, that’s nice. Stiles always has been good at making friends. But I wouldn't mind seeing a bit more of him.”

“Yes sir. I’ll make it a point to be more considerate of his family time.”

Family was important after all. 

“You could come too.”

Derek’s jaw twitched. 

"I thought that might be your reaction. Melissa mentioned it might be possible I’m making you uncomfortable with the way I have been acting. That I’m the reason you and Stiles never hang out at our house.”

“Of course not.”

“Son, I don’t have to be a werewolf to hear that lie.” The Sheriff huffed, running a hand over his face.

“Listen, the way things are going now, it’s not working for any of us. So, I would like to make you a promise. I can’t say I won’t be overprotective and worried about Stiles. He’s my kid, even if he's growing up. But I can promise that I will keep our personal lives separate from our professional. No more dark looks, no more judging eyes; I never should have been doing that in the first place. If you don’t feel comfortable at my house, I want it to be because I’m your boyfriend’s dad, not because I’m your boss.”

The Sheriff had said boyfriend. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good cop Derek, a decent officer. I’m sorry if my recent actions have made you doubt that.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, surprise the Sheriff had picked up on that as well.

“I raised Stiles. I don’t miss much. Now get out of here before you are late for your date.”

“Yes sir.”

“You can drop the sir when you’re not on duty. But, for the love of god, keep Stiles away from your desk. It’s distracting for us all.” 

\------  
Derek ended up being just a little late getting to the fairgrounds, but it was worth it to feel good about his job again. He believed the Sheriff when he said he would try to keep their personal interactions separate from professional, which would alleviate a lot of his stress. 

Derek shot Stiles a text saying he was there and asking where he was, before getting out of his car. Stiles was waiting by the ticket booth, so Derek began to carefully weaving his way through the crowd to get there. 

It was packed. The summer festive only lasted three days over the course of the summer solstice, but it always had a good draw from humans and sups alike. Celebrating the summer was exhilarating and exciting, and unlike the winter equinox festive which tending to only attract sups, it was fun for everyone no matter their species.

It was held at the fairgrounds but was better than the fair. The fair had farm animals and a few rides, but the festival had the it all, games, rides, amazing food, and fireworks every night. Kids were always running around laughing, and the adults were carefree and happy.

Derek made it to the booth without being distracted by all of smells and sounds of the fun times to be had only to find Stiles surrounded by strangers.

Well, not all strangers. He knew Scott and he recognized the pretty redhead wearing heals and looking far too fashionable for the festival as Lydia Martin, the banshee who consulted for the department. 

“Derek!” Stiles hollered, throwing himself at the wolf, forcing Derek to grab him around the middle, or risk dropping him entirely. They spun in a half circle and suddenly it was so worth braving the crowd to get here. Stiles gave him a quick peck on the lips, before turning and making introductions. 

“Derek, this is Isaac, Jackson and Danny” pointing to a shy looking curry haired man, who stood next to a snotty looking man and a kind looking man “Erica couldn’t come, obviously, so Boyd stayed with her. You probably know Lydia, so we are just waiting on Cora.”

“Cora is coming?” Derek was surprised. As a wolf, Cora generally avoided crowded, loud places like this. It wasn’t as though they couldn’t handle them, but it wasn’t pleasant to constantly be bombarded by stimuli. She must really have wanted to hang out with Stiles, to be making the effort.

“Yep, Malia was busy but Cora said she was free.”

“Cool.” Malia wasn’t busy, she had been on the couch when he left, but probably just wanted to chill alone for a while. 

Derek have a little wave to the group, who all seemed to be judging him. Isaac and Danny turned away and started talking among themselves quickly, but both Jackson and Lydia took longer, and their gazes were both equally critical. 

Derek stopped himself from flinching. He was a wolf. A Hale. He wasn’t about to be bullied by a couple of humans. No matter how intimidating. 

Cora showed up while they were all still buying ride tickets, and suddenly, Derek understood why Cora wasn’t interested in Stiles. Because Cora was apparently gone on Lydia, reeking of want and attraction, trying to stand close to the redhead and hanging on to her every word. 

He caught his sister’s eyes and she blushed scarlet. Derek hid his smirk. He wouldn’t say anything, it would be rude, but Stiles seemed to already know, judging by the way he effortlessly paired the two women up as they got in line for the rides, shooting Cora a wink.

And man, did they ride the rides. 

Stiles apparently turned into a child when in proximity to carnival rides. He made them ride them all, the Scrambler, the Revolution, even the bumper cars which he did four times in a row. The others seemed unsurprised by his enthusiasm, though Jackson kept rolling his eyes and saying snarky things about Stiles’ maturity. Derek thought it was adorable.

Stiles bounced on his heals when they waited in line, hand sweaty in Derek’s, trading barbs with Isaac and Jackson in turn, while the girls got to know each other, and Scott pointed out people they knew in the crowd. It was wonderful. Derek hoped the night would last forever.

Scott finally had to take a break after his second time on the scrambler, as his asthma was acting up. He was steadily turning blue when Stiles handed him an extra inhaler that he apparently carried and the brothers took a seat by the food court until Scott could breathe again. 

After that they all split off, Jackson, Danny, Isaac and Scott going to get food, and Cora and Lydia going to ride the Ferris wheel. From the look in Cora’s eyes, there was a first kiss in the making. 

Stiles drug Derek off to go play the carnival games. As a werewolf, he wasn’t technically supposed to participate in games in which he could win prizes, according to the sportsmanship rules put down by the Accords. But he figured what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

Derek won Stiles a stuffed wolf on one of the shooting games, while Stiles missed every shot but grinned like he set a new high score. Then they wandered over to the food trucks, where he bought them a funnel cake to share. They found an empty bench to sit down and stuff themselves with sugary goodness as they waited for the sun to set and the fireworks to start. 

“So,” Derek started, “Your friends seem nice. Close knit too. I could smell it.”

Family, happy families always had a certain scent, like nutmeg and safety, and all of Stiles friends had it. It was comforting and made Derek like them for that alone. Even if they were a little intense. 

Stiles smiled, powdered sugar on his lips. He licked it off, not noticing the shutter that ran through Derek at the image.

“Yeah, we’re pretty tight. We didn’t use to all be friends actually. It used to just be Scott and me, but then Isaac came in during junior year, then later, once I stopped worshiping Lydia, she and Jackson and Danny joined as well. It’s a weird group, but it works well for us.”

“Jackson seems like a dick.” 

Stiles snorted. “Oh he is. But he’s a good guy to have at your back too, especially after the whole kanima incident. Beside, we’re all kind of assholes anyway. He fits right in.”

“Kanima?” Derek had heard of them. But they were super rare and he didn’t know there was one in Beacon Hills.

“Yep, halfway through senior year, Jackson got bit by a rouge alpha and didn’t turn quite properly. I was actually the one who figured out what was going on, helped my dad try to stop him. He ended up killing his alpha and getting turned human again, but it changed him. He finally admitted he wasn’t attracted to Lydia but was totally in love with Danny. Then he stopped treating people like shit. He’s still an ass, but now he knows it, know you?”

Derek nodded. 

“And Lydia?”

“Same alpha bit her actually and jump started her powers, but she would have been a banshee either way. I helped her figure them out a bit, and now we are friends for life.”

Stiles seemed to have a knack for figuring things out. It was almost supernatural, in fact. 

“Hey Stiles?” Derek said, after they had sat for a moment finishing their dessert. “Is Scott’s asthma that bad?”

For the first time tonight, Stiles looked serious. 

“Yeah man, it is. He’s been in the hospital plenty of times for it. Most people grow out of it, but he just seems to be getting worse.”

“Is he on a list?”

The lists were also part of the Accords. To keep alphas from turning too many people and wolves overwhelming the population, each alpha could only turn two people a year, no matter what. Most packs saved those spaces for human mates of betas or for human born pack members, but others had lists of people who wanted to be turned. People had to apply to be on the list and live within pack's home state to be considered. The alphas could pick whoever, but most alpha’s gave priority to humans with medical issues the bite could fix. Asthma would be one. 

“Yea. He’s on Satomi’s, in Lancaster county, but he is only about half-way up. There aren’t any more packs nearby, so he’s stuck, unless he wants to move and start at the bottom again. He’s on your mom’s too, but you know.”

Talia didn’t turn people. She never had, and after what happened with Paige, she became adamant that she never would. 

“I’m sorry.” Derek said, feeling both defensive of his pack, and guilty that they didn’t help Scott.

“Don’t be. That’s the point of the list. The alpha needs to choose who is a good fit for the pack.”

“You sure know a lot about pack dynamics.”

Stiles shrugged and grinned. “I read a lot.”

Which was nice, but there really wasn’t much to read about werewolf packs. Wolves tended to be private, as did most sups, because that is what had kept them alive this long. Derek wondered how much he really knew. Particularly about werewolves and the intensity of their romantic relationships.

“Come on” Stiles said, jumping up and pulling Derek to his feet as well. “Let’s go get a good spot for the fireworks.”

\-------  
They ended up by the lake where it was clear enough to see the sky, but not too close to the water, as Derek remembered the Sheriff’s warning to avoid it. He winced, realizing that he probably shouldn’t have let Stiles drive the bumper cars either. 

Oh well. It turned out fine. 

They mingled through the crowd, Stiles occasionally calling out to other people who were waiting.

“Look, there’s your sister. Aww they look so cute.”

Derek turned, expecting to see Cora cozied up to Lydia, but instead say Laura standing hand and hand with Parish. 

She waved, then went back to her date.

“Huh. Didn’t see that one coming.”

“You didn’t? Dude, they’ve been crushing for weeks. I told her to make a move. God knows Jordan wont.”

“Is there anything you don’t know.” Derek asked, pulling Stiles in to face him, eyes dancing as he kept a straight face.

“A little bit. Like why you aren’t kissing me right now.”

Derek pressed lips against Stiles’ in response. The kiss was soft and romantic, at least a first, until Stiles ran his fingers threw Derek’s hair. Derek growled softly, suddenly wanting the human so badly. Their tempo increased as Stiles opened his mouth. Derek was happy to dart his tongue in and taste him. The human went pliant immediately, tasting like sugar and smelling like cinnamon. 

A loud bang sounded, then an explosion burst above them. Derek broke off the kiss, eyes flashing as he looked for danger. 

Stiles laughed at him, bopping him on the nose. If it had been anyone else, Derek would have bit off their finger, but for Stiles, he would allow it. 

“It’s just fireworks silly.” Stiles was still laughing as he raised his head to look at them properly. 

He was beautiful, eyes bright and laughing, neck tilted back and throat bared, lights bursting all around him. 

Derek wanted to draw him like that, so perfect and wonderful. He wanted to remember the image, this moment, forever. 

It was only fitting then, that Stiles suddenly went stock still, scent reeking of pain, as he dropped to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the amazing feedback and beautiful comments! I am the worst about responding, but please know I read them all, and each one is an encouragement to keep writing. You all are the best audience anyone could ask for!


	8. Chapter 8

“Stiles!” 

Derek’s cry could barely be heard over the fireworks but it didn’t matter because Stiles was already unconscious. His eyes were closed, face blank as his body went limp and fell to the ground. Derek managed to catch him, bracing his head before it bashed into the ground. Stiles went rigid, little jerks shuttering through his thin frame as his heart rate increased and breathing stuttered. 

Fuck, fuckity, fuck. 

This was a seizure, a real, shaking, terrifying seizure. If the shaking and unresponsiveness wasn’t enough, the now familiar smell of ozone and burning and metal gave it away. 

Derek fought to remain calm, whipping out his phone and pulling up the timer. He wasn’t sure if this was atonic or a grand mal, but he didn’t care. He would wait out the three minutes, then call John. 

Or maybe he should call now. He didn’t know. All he knew was Stiles was unresponsive on the ground.

Other people around them had begun to notice something was wrong, muttering and moving in closer. Derek bared his human teeth, letting out a sub-vocal growl, warning them away but they didn’t listen, pressing into a tight circle around them. 

“Back up! Get the fuck back.” A voiced barked, and Derek didn’t know the last time he had been so thankful for Laura.

“Calm down.” She ordered him, taking charge like always as the future alpha in her came out. “Don’t make a scene. Keep bracketing his head, but don’t hold him down.”

Laura knelt down, professionally taking Stiles vitals as he continued to shake. Parish was somewhere above them, pushing people back and talking in the phone, presumably to the Sheriff.

Stiles' shaking slowed to a stop, though his breathing was still coming in little jerks and his heart continued to skip beats. 

“Help me turn him.” Laura ordered and they pushed Stiles on to his side and into the rescue position, in case he vomited. Laura’s eyes gleamed in the darkness as she looked worriedly at her brother.

She reached out, putting her hands on Derek’s shoulder as she calmly explained what was going on. “Derek, he’s having a seizure.”

“I know.”

Laura gave him an odd look, like he might be in shock, but continued. “He’ll be fine, but I’m going to have Jordan call ambulance.”

“It’s fine.” Parish was suddenly there, kneeling as well, hand on Stiles leg. “He doesn’t need one.”

Laura’s eyes went wide with the implication as a scream rang out. 

“Stiles!”

Cora came running up, but there was no sign of Lydia or any of the others. She pushed her way in front of Parish, clearing panicking as her eyes flashed gold in the dark.

“What’s wrong with him? Why is he breathing like that? Laura, do something!”

“It’s fine.” Derek found himself saying over and over, as the timer reached two minutes as Stiles heart finally began to regulate from the gallop it was on. “He’s fine.”

“He is not fine! His heart is all wrong and he smells awful. Why are you all just sitting here?” Cora wailed. 

“He has seizures Cor.” Derek tried to be kind, but it came out wooden. 

“Seizures?” Cora looked horrified, clapping her hands over her mouth.

“It’s not a death sentence, especially if he is epileptic.” Laura was quick to assure her, throwing a comforting arm over Cora’s shaking shoulders. “It looks scarier than it is.”

Stiles’ eyes flickered open and Parish fought his way in front of his face, as Laura pulled Cora back, quietly murmuring how Stiles would want privacy.

Parish dug through Stiles’ pockets to pull out the pill bottle, knowing exactly where he kept it. 

“Open up.” He ordered, placing a pill in the human’s mouth with a practiced motion. 

Stiles took it obediently. Derek could see it work, see his mind catch up with his body, as his eyes cleared, talking in the people standing all around, Cora crying on Laura’s shoulders, Derek’s own pale face.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Parish assured as Stiles sat straight up. 

“I’m fine Derek,” he babbled, ignoring Parish to focus solely on Derek. “It’s just a seizure. They happen sometimes, but they are nothing to worry about. It’s fine, it’s normal for me.”

“I know.” Derek wrapped his arms around him and pulled the human close. “Stiles I know.”

Stiles pulled away. “What do you mean you know?”

“Your father told me you were epileptic before our first date.”

“He did what?” Stiles voice was deadly calm. 

Derek didn’t answer and Stiles pulled himself up to his feet, surprisingly steady.

“I’m not epileptic, I have seizures. It’s not the same. And he had no right. He should never have told you. And you, you never should have fucking kept it from me! You should have told me you knew!”

“Well you clearly weren’t going to tell me.” Derek stood as well, arms crossed as the fear from before turned into anger. Parish shot him a look, before going over to join the girls in a useless attempt to give them privacy. 

“Because I didn’t want you looking at me like I’m a freak!”

“You think you’re the only one who knows what it’s like to be different. I’m a werewolf, Stiles. I wrote the book on not fitting in.”

“Yeah but you get cool powers. You get to heal and be strong and run really fast. You get everything and I get to flail on the ground while people watch me like I’m a sideshow.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Derek couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “No one thinks that. Let’s just go somewhere where you can sit down and recover.”

“I don’t need to recover!” Stiles yelled, pushing Derek away childishly and running remarkably stead and quickly, disappearing into the crowd. 

“Fuck.”

Derek went to run after Stiles. Even in the crowd, with its many scents and sounds, he would be easy to track. After all, that is exactly what Derek was trained for. 

But, before he moved more than a step forward, Parish was there echoing Stiles earlier action, pushing him and onto his ass back with surprising strength. 

“Stay the fuck here.” 

Parish then took off after Stiles himself. 

Derek growled softly at the retreating figure, picking himself up. Laura let go of Cora long enough to grab her brother’s hand. 

“Let him go Derek.”

“He might need help.” Derek shook her off, but she grabbed back harder sinking her claws into his arm.

“That’s why Jordan went.”

Derek glowered at her. She didn’t understand. Their relationship might be new, but Derek knew Stiles well enough to know that he wasn’t the sort of person to think things through, especially when he was upset. He was going to do something stupid, stupid like break up with Derek, unless Derek went after him, explained, and probably begged for forgiveness. 

“He’s embarrassed and angry. If you go after him now, it’s only going to make it worse.”

Derek shook his head. She didn’t understand. “I have to tell him I’m sorry. I never should have kept the fact that I knew a secret. I only wanted to protect him. I didn’t want to ruin what we had going by making him self-conscious. I wanted him to be himself.”

He wanted the boy he was falling in love with. That was all he wanted, nothing more. 

Cora muttered something that sounded a lot like “bang up job,” as the last of the fireworks faded from the sky. Laura pulled him in close without letting go of the arm she had around Cora, pulling them all into a group hug. 

“And you will tell him. Tomorrow. Once everyone has had time cool down.”

\-------  
Derek couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned all night, checking his phone every half hour, just in case Stiles were to have called.

He had texted Stile to let him know he wanted to talk. He had tried calling, because texting just didn’t seem like it was enough, but it had gone straight to voicemail. 

He had been upset by that, worried that maybe Stiles wasn’t just mad but hurt or sick. The only reason he hadn’t gone over to the Stilinski house, to check on Stiles right then and there, was because Parish had texted before the Hales had even made it to the edge of the fairgrounds to let them know he had Stiles and that he was alright. 

And deep down, he knew Laura was right. Stiles needed time and rest before Derek pleaded his case. 

But it didn’t make the waiting any easier. 

Derek watched the sun rise slowly. He got up and drove around for a bit, just to have something to do, frowning at the red signs in many of the yards around the neighborhood. They all said the same thing, “Pack Your Sup Ass Up.”

It wasn’t clear who had started putting out the signs, but their message was clear. The sups coming into town weren’t welcome. Derek hated it, but as long as they were on put up on private property with the owners permission, there wasn’t anything the cops could do. Freedom of speech was just that. 

Derek managed to wait until ten before going over to the Stilinski house, not knowing how late Stiles would sleep after such a bad seizure. The internet said they made people sleepy, but the Sheriff had said that Stiles didn’t always react the way a normal person might. He hoped it was late enough, but if not, he could always come back. He was off all day.

He got some coffee, the good stuff from the shop by the department and had convinced Laura to make some chocolate chip muffins as an apology gift. He drove home to get them, before heading back out. 

The cruiser was in the drive when Derek pulled up, parking his Camaro on the street and walking to the door with dread pooling in his stomach. Great, just what he needed, the Sheriff witnessing his mess. He took a deep breath and knocked. 

Stiles opened the door before Derek could panic and run away, looking horrible. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess. He was wearing the same shirt as he had yesterday, though he had changed from jeans to sweatpants. 

“Here.” Derek said, clumsily pushing the muffins and a coffee at him. 

Stiles took the coffee but put the muffins down on an entry way table. He didn’t move out of the way to let Derek in, but instead leaned against the doorframe. 

“What are you doing here Derek?” He sounded worn in a way Derek had never heard the normally energetic man be. It worried Derek even more than he had been before. 

Aware of at least two other heartbeats within earshot, Derek began his apology, hoping that Stiles would see his sincerity for what it was. 

“I came to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept the fact I knew about, the thing, that thing you have, a secret. You can’t a have a healthy relationship with secrets and it wasn’t fair to you.”

Stiles lips lifted, but it couldn’t really be called a smile. 

“You can call them seizures. That’s what they are, technically. I accept your apology. And I’m sorry too. It’s possible I overreacted. Slightly.” 

There was the distinct sound of a throat clearing.

“I may have overreacted badly. I was surprised and scared. It made me angry. But it wasn’t fair to take it out on you.”

“It’s ok.” Derek said, grateful that Stiles wasn’t kicking him to the curb. 

They stood awkwardly for a moment, both drinking their coffee. Derek didn’t particularly want to go inside and face the Sheriff. No matter if John said he wouldn’t be his boss outside work, or not, it would be uncomfortable. But he wasn’t ready to leave Stiles so soon after making up. 

“Want to go for a walk?” Stiles asked suddenly, already slipping on some shoes that from the pile by the door. 

Derek nodded but as Stiles slid outside and pulled the door shut behind him, the Sheriff caught it and pulled it back open.

“Son, are you sure you should be going out?”

Stiles rounded on him, the anger clear on his face, even if Derek hadn’t been able to smell it rolling off his skin.

“I. Am. Fine. I’m not feverish and I didn’t have any other seizures last night. Besides, I’m with Derek. And you’ve made sure he knows how to take care of me.”

Stiles took off and Derek followed, shooting an apologetic look to the Sheriff, who stood at the door looking worried. 

\-----  
They didn’t walk very far, just a few blocks town to a small park. All it had was a few benches scattered among the flowerbeds, but it was empty and that was the important part. Stiles took a seat, Derek joining him. Stiles set him empty coffee down on the ground and fiddled with his shirt hem mindlessly.

“What was the first thing you thought about me? When we met the first time?”

“The night I almost arrested you?”

Stiles nodded. 

“That you were beautiful. That I wanted to protect you.” Fuck, Derek had wanted so badly to protect him he had broken police protocol by not calling it and he didn’t even know Stiles name yet. 

Stiles met his eyes. Derek suddenly felt electric, like he could feel everything and at the same time, all he cared about was Stiles. The hair on the back of his neck stood up and he fought to keep the shift down. 

“You thought something was wrong with me. That I was a freak.”

“No” Derek shook his head, desperately needing Stiles to understand. “I was worried you were sick, or on drugs or whatever. I wanted to help you, to be the one to save you. I never thought you were a freak. I would never think that of anyone.”

Stiles smelled like hope, all bubbles and sunshine, eyes wide like he wanted to believe Derek but didn't quite.

“I wanted to keep you safe before I even know you Stiles. My wolf, the part of me that is pure instinct, it wanted to do anything to keep you safe.”

Stiles smiled as he replied. “The first time I saw you, really saw you, not fucked up from a seizure episode, I thought that there was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you close.”

Derek wrapped his hand cautiously around Stiles’. “I guess we were on the same page then.”

“Yeah.” Stiles swallowed hard; eyes now focused on the distance. 

“My friend says that when a wolf falls in love and then devotes themselves to one person, that’s it. The wolf has one mate and they are loyal to the end.”

“That’s true.” Derek wondered which one of Stiles friends would have known that. He squeezed Stiles hand to bring his eyes back to Derek’s face. “Not all wolves find their mates though. And even if you do, it’s not a magic connection that somehow makes everything fit perfectly. You still have to work at it. My parents were mates, but none of the rest of us have found that person. My grandparents had an arranged marriage, which is actually more common in werewolf culture than finding a true mate.”

And it had nearly destroyed his mother to lose his father. If she hadn’t already been a mother and an alpha, Derek had no doubt at all that she would have followed his father into the ground.

“But werewolves love differently than humans, when we love. It’s not like humans that can marry then get divorced. We don’t have in-betweens or second thoughts. When we are in true love, its permanent. It’s stronger for us, because of our instincts, so we either love, or we don’t. We know and then that’s it. We just know.”

“Is it ever wrong?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Am I it for you?” Stiles looked so young, vulnerable as he looked up at Derek through his lashes. 

Derek swallowed, wanting Stiles so badly it hurt but also desperately afraid that he might be about to scare him off forever. “I think so yes. I can’t be sure, but I’ve never felt this way with anyone before.”

Not with Paige and certainly not with the other girls and boys at school. 

“You’re my mate.”

Stiles didn’t say anything but his scent suddenly shifted to pure happiness. He moved in for a kiss. It was gentle, soft. It reminded Derek of beautiful places in the world, misty sunrises and long lazy days by the lake. It was perfect and when Stiles moved away, it left Derek wanting more. 

They took a moment to sit and just be, before Derek snorted a laugh, breaking some of the underlining tension. 

“I couldn’t even get the guts up to ask you if I could call you my boyfriend. I’ve been struggling with it for days. And now you know that we’re probably mates.”

Stiles joined in laughing as well. “We might be moving a little fast, but I’ve been calling you my boyfriend since our first date. And your sister’s have been acting like this was going to be a long-term relationship, and I know how rare it is for a pack to do that to a human. So, it’s really not that much of a surprise.”

Derek felt lightheaded from the relief of finally saying what he had felt for so long. He grinned wickedly as a thought hit him. “We haven’t even had sex yet.”

Stiles wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “I can fix that.”

Derek shook his head. The Stilinski house was full of people and so was the Hale house. He wanted their first time to be special. It was going to have to wait until they had the space for it to be amazing.

They got up and walked for a bit around the park to stretch their legs, throwing away their trash as they went. They took the time to notice the flowers in bloom and enjoy the breeze. Derek pointed out a bird nest full of baby birds that he could hear chirping, and Stiles got excited by some squirrels chasing each other through the trees.

But Stiles still seemed antsy, unsettled. Derek asked him if he wanted to go home, but Stiles shook his head. He kicked at the dirt, facing Derek but refusing to look up. 

“Did you mean it? About the no secrets thing? Because I really want to tell you something. Something that only a few people know. Something that could literally get me killed if the wrong person found out.”

Derek’s heart beat frantically in his chest. “You can tell me anything. I swear I won’t give up your secrets. Not for anything.”

Stiles smiled dryly. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He looked around at the still empty park.

“I don’t hear any other heartbeats.” Derek supplied helpfully.

Stiles nodded, chewing on his lip and bouncing slightly on his heals. “You need to know. If we are going to do this, you need to know.”

Stiles heart was beating so fast, Derek was worried the stress alone might set off another seizure. He had read that it could happen. 

“You don’t have to tell me now. Stiles, we have our whole lives. You can tell me later, when you know me more.”

“I know you. I’ve talked to your sisters about you, and Parish. Even my dad. They all say your amazing. Kind, caring, thoughtful. You want the best for everyone, even if it makes you unhappy. I want to tell you.”

Derek wrapped an arm around his boyfriends, around his mate and dropped a kiss on his head. He let Stiles take the time he needed to calm down. Then, finally, Stiles spoke.

“I do have seizures, technically. And you probably know that I’m a little bit magic- you’ve would have seen the level on my ID.”

Derek nodded. He had known Stiles had some sort of gift but hadn’t honestly thought about it since they started going out. It hadn’t seemed as important, not once he had gotten to know Stiles as a person and not just a face on an ID.

“Well, the two things are connected. I don’t have seizures because I have epilepsy. I have them because of the magic. Because I’m a spark. And I have visions of the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a little bit in love with this chapter. Let me know if you liked it was well. (Sorry about the clifthanger! It's a nasty habit of mine.)


	9. Chapter 9

Derek felt like he had been punched in the gut. 

It wasn’t possible. Sparks were rare. Incredibly rare. Dangerously rare. They had powers far beyond any other magic user, and as such, were often sought after for nefarious reasons. 

But no one could see the future.

No one but Stiles. Because it fit. It all fit. Finding Sara in the woods, knowing the boy hadn't been in the destroyed house. Stiles wasn't lying. 

Derek’s heart was pounding and his mind whirled. He tried to drawl on his police training to focus, to power through it but the world still went dark at the edges. “What?” he managed to breathe out. 

“Oh my God, Derek, do you need to sit down? Oh my God.” 

Derek grabbed desperatly at Stiles’ arms, holding tighter than he meant to, but he couldn’t let go. Stiles was the only thing keeping him upright.

“What?” he repeated. 

“Breathe in.” It was an order, every bit as powerful as one from his alpha. “Good. Hold for five, four, three, two, one, and breathe out. Good.”

Stiles patiently talked Derek down from his panic attack, his wide eyes the only sign that he wasn’t perfectly calm. Eventually Derek managed to catch his breath and Stiles pressed a kiss to his lips. 

"You back with me?" Stiles looked worn out, like he had been the one panicking, which sent Derek worrying again. He suddenly remembered that Stiles had had a grand mal seizure the night before and that his father was back at the house, likely worried out of his mind. They needed to get him home. 

Not to mention that Derek needed time to process everything that Stiles and he had talked about. They weren’t breaking up but in fact, were doing well in their relationship. They were mates. Stiles didn’t just have seizures, but he had visions as well. 

“Let’s go back.”

They walked back in silence. Derek too stunned to talk but he took Stiles hand to hid the shaking of his own. 

He waited until they got back to the Stilinski house, standing awkwardly on the porch before speaking again.

“I believe you. I will always believe you. I just, it’s a lot to take in.”

The thing was, no one could tell the future. Sure a few powerful Druids had spells that let them see the likelihood of a certain event working out. There were a few psychics that could guess outcomes better than most, but it was exactly that. A guess. No one could tell the future. 

Except Stiles. Apparently.

Stiles shrugged. “I didn’t believe it either. Not for a long time. I thought I was going crazy. They tried to treat me as a mage at first, but the classification didn’t fit and caused all kinds of trouble.”

Derek’s mind was still stalled. “How? How can you be a Seer?”

“No one is sure. The best answer guess is that I’m a spark, like I said before, just one that had it’s powers kinda twisted. Only I got lucky and instead of things going terribly wrong, I got lucky and my spark created a new type of power, just for me.” 

Derek simply couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Stiles, his mate and boyfriend, was a spark. Even in the world of the supernatural, it seemed fantastically. They were supposed to be incredibly rare, possibly hunted out of existence. No one Derek had ever met had known one. They were also extremely powerful. Instead of drawing their powers from spells or nature, it drew from themselves. The only limit they had was their own belief. 

“Basically, my spark should have given me pure magic. But instead of presenting in the normal way, instead of becoming a witch or druid or mage, my magic came in well, basically wrong. It gave me powers that shouldn’t exist, because I didn’t know they didn’t exist.”

“Why on earth would your magic do that?” 

“I don’t know.”

Stiles heart jumped as he looked down at the sidewalk. Derek took a half step backward on reflex. Stiles had lied to him.

Derek shook it off with a only a heavy blink and a mental rebuke to himself. It was rude to use his enhanced powers on humans, especially in a heated conversation like this. 

He reached out pulled his boyfriend in for a hug. It was okay if he lied, for now. Derek didn’t need to know everything right away. There would be time later. 

Stiles hugged back with all his strength, before his scent turned sad and he turned to the door. 

“I don’t want to talk to you for a few days.”

Derek had emotional whiplash. First he and Stiles became serious, they both shared life altering secrets, and now he didn’t want to be together, “What?”

“No I don’t mean it like that.” Stiles huffed. “I want you to take a couple of days to think about this. If being with me is the life you want. Because what I am is dangerous and difficult. The seizures are a part of it, but only a tiny bit. It’s dangerous to be what I am. People would hunt me down to gain my power and kill anyone around me. We’ve had close calls before.”

“Is that why you changed your name?”

Stiles gave a wry smile. “Yep. Stiles Stilinski died of a seizure when he was a child. Stiles Nowak was born then, already a teenager. No one knows that we are the same person, except a few very high up officers in various government agencies.”

And the people in town who saw Stiles grow up. But maybe there was some sort of magic that protected him from people remembering that. “Is that your government job?”

Stiles nodded, still smiling like it hurt. “I consult with the FBI, CIS, state police, you name it. I do it all, missing personal, drug running, sex trafficking.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t hid you away and use you for that all the time.”

The smile fell. “They tried. Luckily I had a good lawyer. I sued for the right to not use my gifts at all. Part time consulting and a new name was the best I could do.”

The porch light flickered on and off, despite the fact it way still daylight out.

“That’s my cue.” Stiles looked worn out. Derek hoped he would go in and nap. 

“I’ll call you soon. But my answer will be the same. I’m with you no matter what.”

“Just make sure Derek.” Stiles gave him a peck on the cheek, then shut the door.  
\------  
Derek made it home before he freaked out, ignoring the worried looks his family gave him as he walked blindly to his room and slammed the door.

He sat on the bed and cried for a bit, complexly overwhelmed. He had a potential mate, someone to love forever and ever. And his mate was sick, would always be sick because of the visions. 

But fuck, visions didn’t exist. Except they did. Stiles heart had been steady. Unless he just though he was telling the truth. Which meant he was crazy.

But deep down Derek knew Stiles wasn't crazy. In fact, it was the only thing that really made sense. Stiles had magic, that was clear from his ID. And the showing up and knowing things he couldn't possibly know. It had to be the truth.

Fuck. 

He laid on the bed as the sun went down, utterly spend from both his panic attack and crying jag. He chose not to go down to dinner, ignoring Cora when she had knocked on the door to get him. 

The moon had risen by the time his door opened again. 

“Oh Derek.” His mother slipped into the room; her scent bitter and worried. Derek didn’t bother to wipe the tears from his face, knowing full well she would already smell them.

“Did you and Stiles break up?”

Derek shook his head. “I think we might be mates.”

“Oh!” Talia pulled him up and into a hug. “That’s wonderful. I had wondered. The way you gravitated toward him. Something about it just seemed special.”

Derek nodded. 

“So why are you crying?” Her voice was gentle and coaxing as she continued to hold him in her arms. “If it’s about what Peter said about Stiles never being pack, he was only being careful because of what happened with Paige. Being mates, that changes things.”

“He’s sick Mom.” Derek choked out, wanting so badly to tell her everything but knowing he couldn’t. It was Stiles' secret to tell. “Really sick. He wants me to take some time to decide if I want to be with him.”

“And you do?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then why are you upset?”

“Because I don’t want him to be sick. I want him to be safe. I want him to be happy and healthy because he’s amazing and he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Are you asking me to give him the Bite?” Talia stiffed slightly against her son.

Derek flinched, knowing they were both thinking about the last time he asked for his alpha to give the someone the Bite. Paige would have died either way, but because of the Bite, it had been long and painful.

“No.” Derek shook his head. “I don’t think it would take.”

“Ah.” Derek could smell his mother’s sadness as she understood what he meant. Certain sicknesses couldn’t be cured with the bite. Some things were too far in a person’s DNA to be fixed. Epilepsy could be, but it depended on the source. If it was from brain damage, it wouldn’t take. Derek was pretty sure it wouldn’t take if it was magical either. “I did wonder why he wasn’t on the list for his seizures.”

“His brother is. Asthma."

“I’ll have to look into that. Maybe I can put in a good word with one of the other packs.”

“Thanks.” He managed dully. His mother pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Derek. I can’t image how hard this is for you. We heal to easily, it’s hard to understand those who can’t. But if he is your mate, you know what you are going to do. You’re going to go back to him. You’re going to help him deal with his sickness. You’re going to love him, no matter what. Because that is the sort of person you are. And I love you for it.”

Derek hoped she was right. He wanted so badly so strongly to be enough for it. For Stiles. 

She pressed another kiss to the back of his head, smoothing down the hair there. “When you’re ready, I want to meet this boy. No more excuses. You’re not alone in this. You have us. Let us help you.”

\-------  
The next few days went slow. Derek did as promised. He thought long and hard about his future and what it would mean now that he knew the truth about Stiles. How it would affect him to have Stiles as his mate, and his pack to have a sick and vulnerable pack member, not matter how brilliant and wonderful he was.

And he didn’t see any differences. If anyone came after Stiles for his magic, Derek had the training to stop them. Not to mention the pack, which was strong, so having one physically weak member wouldn’t bring down the security of it. And they all loved him already. He knew each of his sisters and cousin would do anything to keep Stiles safe.

He made decent money, so if Stiles ended up too sick to work heaven forbid, he could support him. And even if he couldn’t, the pack money would. 

So what if things were a bit more complicated. He didn’t care. He loved Stiles, magic, seizures, or whatever else there may be. 

Besides, any negative aspects of the dangers Stiles might bring would be far overshadowed by having Stiles in his life. He was strong and bright. He was clever and caring. He was amazing and Derek would take anything to have that wonderfulness in his life. 

He loved him. 

So after the three days, when he got off shift for the day because he didn’t dare do it before work, he walked up to the Stilinski’s house and knocked. 

Stiles opened the door, his face a mix of fear and hope. Derek heart throbbed and any words he planned on saying melted on his tongue. He just took Stiles’ face in his hands and pressed his lips to his. 

What started soft quickly became heated as Stiles understood what Derek wasn’t saying. His scent went sharp with joy that turned to arousal as hands began to roam. He tasted sweet and smelled even better. Derek couldn’t help but tease his tongue along Stiles’ lips, trying to taste more as heat spread through his core. 

Stiles grabbed Derek’s shirt and pulled him inside, shutting the door with his foot, never breaking the kiss. They walked towards the couch, each step taking twice as it should because of the lewd way Stiles was grinding his hips against Derek’s as the moved. 

Stiles’ smiled widely as they sat. “Are you sure? Not just cause of sex?”

“So sure.” He pulled off his shirt, pressing Stiles back down onto the couch, bracketing his legs around the human’s as he licked a strip from navel to neck. “I love you. Visions, spark, seizures. Nothing could convince me to leave.”

“Fuck Derek.” Stiles’ back arched and Derek ran a hand over the bulge in his jeans, his fingers teasing the button. 

“Hey Stiles, do you want, oh my fucking God.” Scott came in from the kitchen, only half paying attention as he texted, at least until he glanced up and saw Derek on top of his brother on the couch. He threw his hands over his face with a pained cry. 

Stiles groaned, pushing Derek up so they could sit beside each other, but he didn’t put his shirt back on. 

“I thought you were out with Isaac.”

“I was.” Scott childishly kept his face covered, “But Mom was leaving for her shift, so I came home.”

Stiles rolled his eyes so hard it had to hurt and muttered something that sounded like “Overprotective” but even as close as Derek was he couldn’t quite make it out. He stood up and grabbed Derek’s hand, pulling him towards the stairs. 

Scott visibly relaxed as they left, taking their spot on the couch. “Don’t fuck in my bed. And Isaac and Jackson are coming over with pizza soon, so don’t take too long.”

“Oh fuck off McCall.” Stiles led Derek upstairs, flipping his brother off as he left. 

“Hypocrite. It’s not like I’ve never caught him fucking. Boy has more sex than a linebacker. And the things he and Allison do. Will do. Shit.”

Derek ignored the muttering his stomach twisting at the thought of having sex here, in the Sheriff’s house. It didn’t matter that he had held true to his promise and stopped intimidating Derek, however unintentionally, at work. It was just wrong. The wolf in him was too tense at the thought of being vulnerable in a place that didn’t smell like his.

“I can’t.” Derek stopped short of the door that Stiles was leading him too. 

Stiles face twisted and he let go of his hand, his scent bitter. “I thought you wanted me. I thought you, I thought all the kissing meant you wanted to be with me, even though I’m sick.”

“No, I mean, yes. I mean.” Derek took a deep breath, trying to organize his thoughts his feelings making him stumble over the worlds. Stiles let him, though his scent grew worse by the second. 

“I don’t want to not be with you because your sick. I don’t care about that even the tiniest bit. I want to be with you because your amazing. You make me laugh, and you fucking listen to me, and you make me feel like I’m important, and not just because I’m the token supernatural. I’m important because I’m me.”

Stiles didn’t look convinced. “Then why did you say you couldn’t do this.”

“I meant fucking. Fucking you here.” Derek’s face burned and he dropped his voice. “It’s smells wrong. I don’t think I could do it.”

Stiles grinned then latched onto to Derek for a hug, his breath hot on Derek’s neck as he nuzzled in. It was terribly intimate, but he didn’t mind. It felt right, to be scented by Stiles this way. He ran his hand over the back of Stiles’ head, scenting him right back, never mind that he wouldn’t be able to smell it.

“We don’t have to have sex today. Or tomorrow, or ever. Though it’s important to note that I am not asexual and will occasionally smell like spunk from me beating one off if it turns out you are.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I’m not ace. I just want it to be nice. Safe. And not at my boss’s house when I know for a fact he is already off shift and heading here.”

Stiles snorted. “You’re probably right. He likes you, but if he walked in on us, I think that might change.”

He let go and opened the door to his room. “You want stay to watch a movie or something? We can stay up here and ignore Isaac and Jackson.”

Derek nodded, pulling out his phone to send a text to let his mom know he wouldn’t be home for dinner. 

He looked up when Stiles opened the door to his bedroom, a frown twisting on his face.

The room was a small and definitely depressing. There was a twin bed with a dark comforter and a matching dresser. A couple posters hung on the wall were the only decoration. There wasn’t any old pictures or trophies from high school. There wasn’t any color anywhere, or even a window. It didn’t even smell that much like Stiles. 

The only interesting thing was a large, dark sliding door that covered most of one wall, and didn’t make the room feel any less like a cell.

“Oh.” Derek managed, looking around. “It’s nice.”

Stiles shrugged, going and grabbing a new t-shirt out of the dresser, dropping the one that had been twisted by their roaming hands onto the floor.

“Where’s the TV?” 

“What?” Stiles asked, voice slightly muffled by the shirt he was pulling on. He got his head free, turned too fast, and nearly fell. “Fucking Scott.”

Stiles pulled open the sliding door to reveal a much larger and nicer room that smelled heavily of Scott. He motioned for Derek to take a seat on his small bed, while he crossed into the large room and came back with a moveable TV stand complete with a decent sized flat screen. 

“It doesn’t have cable, but is Netflix alright?” Stiles flopped down next to Derek on the bed and began to thumb through the movies, headless of how awkward Derek was next to him. 

From what he had seen so far, both Scott and Stiles were treated the same. They both had adequate clothing and phones. They clearly cared for each other. Which was why it didn’t make sense for what was clearly Scott’s room to be so much nicer.

Even sitting on the bed in the other room, Derek could see all kinds of decorating and pictures on every surface of the walls. There was a large bookcase, but also a video game console and a couple of bean bag chairs. His bedding was colorful and soft, and there was a large window that overlooked the back yard. 

It was the kind of room every teenage boy wanted, regardless of age. It physically bothered Derek that Scott had it and Stiles didn’t. 

Stiles finally picked a movie, then laid his head on Derek’s shoulder, getting comfortable to watch it. Derek flinched, having just heard the front door open and the Sheriff come home. He waited for him to come interrupt them.

Thankfully no one came upstairs even after the other teenagers arrived with their pizza, but Derek couldn’t relax. He was uncomfortable and wanted simultaneously to confront Melissa and the Sheriff about the obvious favoritism, and to bundle up Stiles and take him back to his house, where he could make sure he had everything he ever wanted. 

It might have just been his wolf overacting to the injustice of his mate, but Derek struggled to sit quietly and take it. He fidgeted and lost focus of the plot of the movie, clenching his hands over and over to keep his claws in.

After about ten minutes, Stiles huffed and paused the movie. 

“Dude, I promise I’m not going to make a move. You can relax.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what’s wrong.”

Derek’s eyes darted up to Scott’s room but he didn’t say anything, unsure of how to tell Stiles how twisted it was. 

Stiles followed his gaze. “Oh. Oh! No, it’s not that like. I promise.”

“It was mine and Scott’s idea. When Melissa and he moved in during high school, we had separate rooms. But back then my sleepwalking was even worse, so we started sleeping in the same room.”

He got up and once again pulled Derek with him.

“But I also have nightmares sometimes, and sometimes my magic goes wonkly durning them. Things break and crack. I was destroying all of our stuff, and I mean all of it. So we compromised. We have one big room that has all of our joint stuff. I mean, you didn’t really think Scott was reading the poetry on the bookshelves, did you? Then we have a room that I sleep in, which is where we are. I didn’t think you would want to sit of Scott’s bed.”

Stiles pulled Derek to his feet and took him into Scott’s room, pointing out the bookcase and several pictures on the wall that only featured Stiles. Once Derek understood what he was looking for, it was clear that both boys spend a lot of time there. 

“It was my choice to make mine small and impersonal. Less to replace when I destroy it. At night, Dad locks my door from the outside, but we leave the sliding one unlocked. If I sleepwalk, I have to go through Scott’s room, which usually wakes him. If I have a nightmare, it doesn’t affect Scott’s room nearly as much. It’s the best idea we could come up with.”

“Oh.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I promise, but our parents love us equally.” Stiles ran a hand over Derek’s arm, then gave him a peck on the lips. “Now can we finish the movie?”

Satisfied, Derek was finally able to relax and enjoy the warmth of his boyfriend in his arms. He rubbed soft circles on his back as they finished the show, drinking in the sweet smell of cinnamon and contentment drifting off of him.

It wasn’t until the movie was over and they were sitting half asleep in the dark that Derek spoke again. 

“My mom wants to meet you. She wants you to come to dinner. And now that we’re officially, she’s going to want it to be soon.”

Stiles nodded, instead of running away screaming, which was always a good sign. “Fair enough. Dad wants you to come over too. Melissa wants to meet you, and I think dad wants to make up for his earlier behavior.”

Two family dinners. It was going to be a long week.”


	10. Chapter 10

Luckily, Derek didn’t have to long to dread it. The very next day he found himself standing outside the Stilinski house trying not to sweat through the button-up shirt Laura had force him into. 

It was Derek’s scheduled day off but the Sheriff, Stiles, and Scott still had to work an afternoon shift, well Stiles had tutoring at noon, and the Sheriff didn’t want to put “meeting” him off any longer. So, they were having a late brunch instead of supper. Derek clutched a bag of his favorite coffee grounds as his nerves shuttered through him, because he didn’t know what else to bring to a brunch.

The Sheriff was the one to open the door and user him in, his face unreadable and scent worrisomely flat, but it might have been continued worry over his son’s health. Derek followed him as he silently led him to the dinning room, nearly sick with nerves.

But he shouldn’t have worried. The Stilinski family was great. The Sheriff cracking a grin as soon as they sat, lightening the atmosphere, and the meal was casual, breakfast foods on paper plates with plastic ware so no one had to clean up. 

Melissa was sweet, pushing all kinds of foods at him, but Derek could see her steel spine, the lines on her face battle scars of the fights she had overcome. She would make a good wolf, but as it was, she was a wonderful mother, pushing Stiles to eat more, encouraging Scott to get off his phone before she took it away. 

The Sheriff, who insisted on being called John since they weren’t at work, teased him gently about his intentions with his son and his future plans but was careful just to joke and to never be threatening. 

The worst thing that happened, which was really nothing at all, was Stiles knocking over his plastic cup with his animated gesturing soaking his and Derek’s laps. He was telling a story about the first time he and Scott met. Apparently peeing on each other’s sand castles meant that they had to become best friends and the rest was history. 

It was nice. Nowhere near a loud as a Hale pack meal, but there was still an intimacy that only families could have, and it was soothing, especially after Derek had built it up to such a terrible thing in his head. 

Derek only stayed for a bit after the meal was done. Stiles and Scott both had work at noon and had to rush out as soon as they finished chewing. He stayed and helped Melissa clean up, something John and Melissa both thanked him for, even though there wasn’t much for him to do other than throw away the plates.

John walked him out, stopping him with a hand on his neck at his car. 

“Son.” John said the lines on his face etched in stone. “I know Stiles decided to tell you what he is. What he can do.”

“Sir,” Derek started, preparing to pleas for his understanding but John have him a tiny shake, cutting him off.

“It’s not an accusation. It was his choice. He trusts you explicitly and so we will too. But, please, if you love him as much as he loves you, be careful. You have no idea what he’s gone through. Don’t put him though more.”

“I would never hurt him.” Derek flashed his eyes, a wolf’s promise.

“I know, son. I know.”

\-------  
Unfortunately, Stiles didn’t get as lucky with his timing. Between the work schedule of the Hale pack, his dinner with the Hales didn’t end up happening for nearly another week, giving him plenty of time to worry. 

And worry he did. Even though he knew the girls amazingly well, Stiles still worried that Talia wouldn’t like him, that the fact that they were mates would automatically make her hate him. Derek wasn’t exactly sure why he thought that but he spent a of time to try to convince his boyfriend that meeting the pack in an official capacity wasn’t that big of deal.

It was a lie, of course. It was the biggest deal and Derek worried nearly as much as Stiles did. He knew the girls already loved him but Peter didn’t like him on principle, though they still hadn’t met either. His mother though, she was the only one that really mattered. 

And Derek knew she would love him. Talia was a kind and caring mother, who knew Derek’s feelings and would love Stiles for that alone. But Stiles was funny and charming, and that would make her love him too.

The heat of July had hit while they waited, the humidity making the air heavy and the people of the town angry. There were several more issues between sups and humans, where humans were repeatedly calling in sups for suspicious behavior or illegally using their gifts, whether or not they were. No one got hurt, but tempers were running high yet again.

Stiles didn’t handle the heat well. He complained about it constantly, enough that Derek would have been annoyed, if not for the way Stiles' body genuinely seemed to drag and he experienced constant exhaustion that wasn’t there before. They spent most of their time inside. Sometimes they watched movies, sometimes Derek sketched while Stiles read or worked on his tutoring sessions. 

At least in the day. In the evening, when the air was cool and damp on their skin, Derek would pick Stiles up in his car, no matter if he was going on shift or coming off, and they would drive. 

It was exhilarating, the moon on their skin and the wind in their hair. They didn’t talk, the wind was too loud, but they laughed and howled at the moon as they got out of town. Sometimes they parked and kissed like nothing else in the world mattered. Sometimes they just drove and watched the world go by. 

Derek would have given anything for life to stay like that. But nothing every stays. He knew that better than most. 

Stiles had several more seizures, all absent. He claimed that stress tended to make them worse, as it loosened his control over his powers. Derek tried not to worry, but the burnt smell and blank look in his boyfriend’s eyes was terrifying. 

Derek tried to convince his mother that having the introductory dinner was too much, but she insisted. It was tradition for a potential werewolf mate to prove they were a suitable match. They didn’t have many traditions left, and Talia was determined to hold onto what they had. To make matter worse, Stiles agreed with her, even if he was afraid. So all Derek could do was wait and hope for the best. 

\------  
Derek was trying not to pace while he waited in the living room for Stiles to arrive. He had texted he was on his way, courtesy of Melissa, and Derek couldn’t wait. 

He pulled out the collar of his shirt, hating how fancy his mother insisted he dress. Tradition, she insisted, but he was pretty sure she was just trying to intimidate his boyfriend. 

He was so nervous, he nearly missed the familiar hummingbird heart coming up the sidewalk. He rushed to the entry way to open the door, but his mother got there first. She gave him a stern look, and he ducked his head the moved to stand beside her, as was his place. 

Talia put the perfect hostess smile on her face, fixed her dress, then opened the door. 

Stiles stood on the porch looking both beautiful in his red button up shirt and nervous as hell. 

“You must be Stiles.”

“Alpha Hale,” He gave a sort of awkward head bob that might have been a bow, but his hands were full of Tupperware containers, so it was cut short. “Please accept these gifts to show that I can provide for your son, should he so choose.”

Talia smile became genuine and Derek felt a wave of pride. Stiles had said exactly the right thing and had even thought to bring an enough food for an entire pack of werewolves, much better then Derek’s bag of coffee. 

“Thank you.” She reach out and brushed her hand over his arm, “Come on in.”

Stiles hesitated. “There’s actually more desserts in the car. I went a little overboard.”

Derek snorted. Of course he did. “I’ll help you get them.”

He brushed past his mother and pulled his boyfriend in for a proper hug, before going to grab the rest of the treats. He felt Stiles relax against him and worried once again about how much Stiles was stressing about this meal. They then hurried to get the rest of the food out of Melissa’s car, so she could leave. 

It turned out Stiles had made chocolate chip and peanut butter cookies, brownies with walnuts, and three kinds of pies.

It smelled amazing, and it brought his sisters running to the dinner room as he helped Stiles line then up on the buffet as there was no room on the already packed table. 

Core reached out to snag a cookie as she hurried him, running her hand over Stiles back as she passed, but Talia rapped her hand before she could take another. “Wait for your Uncle.”

She rolled her eyes but obeyed, taking her seat at the table. Malia, who had used her cousin’s scolding as a distraction to take her own treat, slid in beside her. Laura ignored them both, pulling Stiles in for a short hug, then giving Derek a slightly longer one. 

“Uncle Peter’s running late,” Laura told her mother. “He said he was finishing up something at the office.”

“More like he wants to make an entrance.” Malia mutter, well aware of her father’s tendencies towards dramatics. 

Talia signed, then smiled at Stiles. “We mind as well eat then. Peter can heat his up later.”

The meal went as well as could be expected. Talia asked Stiles all sorts of well-meaning questions about himself, what he was going to school for, how his father was. Stiles answered them, between interruptions from the girls, who joined in the interrogations with a lot less polite of questions. He took them in stride, answering Talia properly then teasing the girls right back, at one point making Cora laugh so hard that water came out her nose. 

Derek just took Stiles hand under the table and held on tight. His mother was blocking her scent, so he wasn’t sure how she felt. She looked pleased, but she had always been good at hiding her emotions. 

They had nearly finished with their meal when Peter swaggered in, interrupting a story Stiles was telling with large hand gestures, about the night he and Derek first met. Apparently after Scott told him he was nearly arrested by a hot cop, he had gone straight home to interrogate his dad about the new hire. None of the wolves were surprised, having hear Peter’s car pull up and knowing he was trying to make an appearance, but Stiles’ eyes only shot to the door as he walked in.

Peter’s sly smile dropped and head tilted as soon as he set eyes on Stiles. “Mieczyslaw Stilinski. You are not who I expected sitting at my table, though I really should have put it together much sooner. Your scent’s changed, for the better I assure you.”

Stiles, who did not look started at all my Peter’s entrance, nodded his greeting. “It’s just Stiles now. It’s on my ID and everything.”

“It suits you.”

Talia’s eyes were narrowed. “Do you two know each other?”

Peter’s lips were a thin line as he took a seat at the only empty chair. “Oh, sister. I never kiss and tell.”

Derek felt a flare of anger so strong he nearly gagged. A growl forced itself out of his throat and he bared his teeth at his uncle, half rising out of his chair as he prepared an attack. 

“Derek.” Stiles’ put his hard on Derek’s arm, calming him slightly. He turned slightly to face Talia. “I’ve meet Mr. Hale before, yes. He helped me sue the government for the rights to my powers.”

“Powers?” Cora mouthed to Derek, looked confused, but smart enough to not interrupt and be thrown out of the room by her mother.

Stiles looked around at the room. “You all know have I seizures right? Well those stem from my powers, my spark, if you will. Unfortunate for me, I didn’t have very good control of either one for a long while. I spent some time in Eichen house. But even when I got my control, they didn’t want to let me go. Mr. Hale made sure they did.”

“You can call me Peter,” his uncle looked thrilled at the idea, his eyes far too bright as he watched Stiles. 

“Spark?” Talia asked, eyes wide as she clearly recognized the phrase for what it was. 

“Seizures?” Malia said, while Cora shushed her, like it was a bad word. 

Laura looked sick. “Eichen House. The treatment facility for supernatural creatures. How long here you there?”

Stiles stunk of anxiety, answering Talia first. “Yes. My spark. And I’m sure Derek can tell you all about my seizures, given that my dad briefed him.”

Derek face flushed as he remembered their fight, but Stiles reached for his hand, an apology in his eyes for bringing it up again. 

“I was at Eichen House for four years, five months, and six days.” His face went hard. “I know you all have amazing control. I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me, if it puts you at risk to be near someone with a level three control rating.”

“No!” Derek nearly shouted, and Cora looked just as upset. 

“Sweetie, we would never let that bother us. We know those tests aren’t fair. Besides we don’t all have perfect control. Only Mom and Derek.” Laura said, standing up and walking over, so that she could pull him in against her side. 

“I’m a level three and so is Cora.” Malia said bluntly, as she went back to eating. 

“I’m a level 2.” Laura said. “Every time they test me, I have an eye flash when they bring in a feral omega for me to treat.”

Peter cleared his throat as he filled up his plate. “I have a similar problem.”

Stiles pulled away to look at Laura’s face. “They put you face to face with a feral omega as part of your legal control testing? That’s barbaric.”

Derek shrugged, glad the conversation was moving away from Stiles and his spark. He clearly didn’t want to talk about and only had because Talia and the others had pushed.   
Though he noticed he didn’t mention his visions. He didn’t lie about his powers exactly but circumvented the truth. It was almost as though he was used to having to work around werewolves advanced hearing. 

“It’s not really feral. It’s some sort of magic that just makes them smell that way. But yeah. They pretend that the omega needs medical treatment and Laura has to treat it like a regular nurse. If she slips, she loses a control ranking.”

Stiles whistled. “And I thought my tests were bad.”

“You think that’s bad? You should hear about Derek’s.”

“Shut up Cora.”

Stiles eyes were dark. “What do they do to you?”

Derek hesitated. He didn’t really like talking about the required testing. He made it through, but it had tested him in ways he had never suffered before. 

“They take us, all the police cadets, all into a military training facility. We have to go through a hostage situation exercise. Only we’re the hostages. They. They test us. The captors are in charge of figuring out who is supernatural and how isn’t. If they call you out and you are, you fail and lose a ranking.”

“You left out all the shooting, wolfsbane tear gas and sonic interference.”

Derek shot his uncle an annoyed look. 

“But that’s not fair. The captors could just call you out just to make you fail.” Stiles complained, a dark frown on his face.

Derek shrugged. “Yep. Everyone knows it’s not fair. But that’s how it works.”

“Fuckers.” Stiles muttered, before shooting a worried glance at Talia. “Sorry Mrs. Hale.”

She smiled tightly. “It’s alright. You’re in good company. My children all have rather colorful language.”

The room went painfully quiet, and no one looked up at each other. The only sound was Peter eating his dinner. 

“Desert?” Stiles asked.

“Dear God yes,” Derek agreed as he stood and walked to the buffet up to begin cutting up the pies. He handed them out to his family, and they dug in with sounds of grateful appreciation. 

\--------  
The rest of the night went much more smoothly. After they ate and cleaned up, Talia pulled out Trivial Pursuit. 

They teamed up. Stiles and Derek, Malia and Cora, then Laura with Talia. Peter played alone, a long-standing family rule because if not, his decimated everyone else and no one had fun. 

But Stiles gave him a run for his money. Neither missed a question the entire night. It was satisfying to watch his uncle get more and more frustrated and Stiles went from awkward to gleeful. 

At least until the last round of questions when his eyes went blank and his face slack. He jerked to the side, knocking his glass of the table where it shattered on the floor.

Derek caught his boyfriend, but before he could lower him to the floor, Stiles was blinking, awareness back in his face. 

Laura was there in an instant, her fingers taking his pulse. “Are you alright?”

Stiles nodded. His expression was still blank and his scent acrid and burnt. 

Cora went to get a broom to clean up the glass, while Talia began to clean up the game. “Would you like to stay and watch a movie? I think the girls have a comedy they wanted to watch tonight?”

Stiles shook his head, still far too still and quiet though awareness was blinking back into his eyes.

“I’ll take you home.” Derek said. 

They stood, Stiles walking on his own, but a bit slower than usual. The pack walked them to the door, crowding slightly as they called their goodbyes. 

Cora called out she would text him tomorrow about a tutoring questions. Laura said she would clean up the containers and bring them by the station soon. Malia didn’t stay anything, but ran a hand over his neck as she watched her aunt’s expression, blatantly scent marking him. 

Peter leaned against the doorframe, his expression calculating. “This went well. Much better than the last time Derek brought home a potential mate.”

“Peter.” Talia bit out, eyes colored with a hint of red. Stiles looked confused, looking between the two of them. 

“Did he not tell you? His last girlfriend. He went and got her bit. Went and got her killed. It nearly took everything from us. The hunters came for us, nearly lit the house on fire. We got lucky the law intervened in time.”

The shame and self hate that burned in his gut every time Paige came up sat sour in Derek’s stomach. He flushed made a move to unwrap his hand from Stiles, but he held on tight. 

“So?” 

“So perhaps you picked the wrong partner, maybe even the wrong Hale. He’s weak and foolish.”

Stiles looked up at Derek for a long time before speaking, but when he did, his voice was strong. “First off, it’s none of my business what happened in Derek’s past. It’s the past. We all have one. If it’s important, he will tell me when he is ready. And using it against him is cruel.”

He turned to face Peter properly, fury on every inch of his face. “Secondly, I know I didn’t pick the wrong Hale. He’s not weak. He’s the strongest man I know. He’s a fucking cop, trying to save the lives of the human who hate him. He’s already held me through a couple of seizures and I have no doubt he will do it again and again. He’s kind and careful. He thinks things through before acting, which tells me he has learned from whatever happened.”

Stiles shuttered and Derek tensed fearing the worst, but no seizure came. He continued on, the words coming faster now, though his tone never grew louder, too worn out to yell.

“He means more to me than I ever thought possible. And we will be together whether you or anyone else in this family likes it or not. Sorry, Mrs. Hale. I know pack is important to you, and I understand if you don’t want me in yours, but I’m going to be in in Derek’s like until he decides he doesn’t want me or I’m fucking dead. So stop trying to sabotage this and stop making your nephew feel like shit.”

The two stared at each other, an unexpected and uneven pissing match between the Hale pack’s left hand and a sick teenage human.

“Get him Stiles,” Cora yelled from deep in the house, breaking the tense energy. 

“Not many would feel that way, much less say it to my face.” Peter grinned ferally. “I’m very pleased to see you again. I hope we can do it again soon” 

He fucked off to who knows where without a backward glance. 

“Thank you for having me. I’m sorry about the glass. And the yelling.”

“Please, don’t give it another thought. It’s not the first glass broken at a family dinner and it won’t be the last. And we all have to yell at Peter sometime or another. It’s good for him.”

Stiles smiled brokenly. “We use plastic. Cut’s down on expenses.”

“We may have to consider switching. It would certainly save us money.” She reached out and brusher the hair back from his face, a motherly gesture. “I hope to see you soon as well. I’m very glad Derek found you.”

He looked at Derek with a sweet smile on his drawn and tired face.

“Me too.”

\------  
Stiles was quiet on the way home. It made Derek twitching and uncomfortable. His boyfriend wasn’t made for silence. He didn’t say a thing until they pulled up to his house, giving Derek a soft kiss and giving an equally soft goodbye. 

It left Derek feeling somewhat empty. They had been having such a good night, then Peter had to go and put a nasty end to it. 

He would have told Stiles about Paige eventually. But not tonight. Not when they were both already stressed about him meeting his mother. 

Speaking of his mother, she was waiting at the front door when he got home. She beckoned, and he followed her to his soundproof office, then took her place behind the large desk. Derek sat down on one of the chairs across from it.

“Smile son, and don’t look so worried.” Talia said. “I’m not here to forbid you from seeing Stiles.”

“You’re not?” Derek was certain that was why she had brought him to the private office. It was known by the Hale kids as the in-trouble room, where the alpha brought them to yell at them without anyone overhearing. Or give out horrible news.

“No.” Talia’s face looked soft, but also a little sad. “I don’t think I could even if I wanted to. As Stiles pointed out, it’s not by business. And its not Peter’s either.”

“But. You’re the alpha. You’re in charge. Of literally everything.”

She pursed her lips. “After Paige’s death, it’s possible I became a bit controlling. And because of the trauma of all of your rather violent upbringings, none of you pushed back. You least of all, my kindhearted boy.”

Derek shook his head. “You did perfectly. You kept us safe. From the supernatural threats, but also from the humans that would destroy us.”

“Oh my love.” Talia made a soft noise and her scent when wet with sadness. “Yes, I’m the alpha, but I’m also your mother. And you’re an adult. All you kids are. You’re capable of making your own choices. And living with the consequences, whatever they may be.”

“I think I love him. I know I love him. I don’t care for what happens, as long as I have him.”

“It’s times like this I wish your father was still here.” Talia reached out and squeezed Derek’s hand. “He would be so proud of you for loving so fearlessly.”

Derek felt the familiar lump in his throat anytime one of their deceased pack members was brought up. He swallowed hard, nodding. He wished his father was here too. There were a million questions he wished he could ask about how to be a good boyfriend. To be a good husband. 

“I would be honored to have Stiles in the pack. Whenever he is ready. And whenever you are.”

Derek went to work the next day feeling a hundred pounds lighter. He rushed through his shift, eager to go home and change to he could go over to Stiles and tell him what his mother had said about the pack. 

But when he pulled up to his house, Peter was on the porch leaning on the front door frame, clearly waiting on him as he slowly drank a cup of coffee. 

Derek rolled his eyes as he approached, unamused by his uncle’s dramatics. He still wasn’t ready to talk to him after he was such a dick the night before anyway.

“Move.” 

“Always so eloquent, nephew. Perhaps a please would help."

“Please move before I rip your throat out.”

Peter laughed, throwing his head back to expose his neck. “Like you would.”

Derek grabbed him by the collar and shoved him against the door, hard enough to shake the foundation slightly. 

“Try me.”

Peter stopped laughing. “We need to talk. Walk with me?”

It was only the fact that Peter asked instead of demanding that Derek followed him off the porch and into the woods. He didn’t say anything as the went deeper and deeper, until all that could be heard was the birds in the trees and the buzz of insects. 

“It’s important that you understand why I did what I did last night.” Peter didn’t look at Derek as he spoke, instead looking at the clouds thought the trees tops. 

“Because you’re an ass?”

“Do you truly think that I’m that cruel? To hurt you just to hurt?”

Derek shook his head. Peter was many things-he had done many things, but he didn’t harm the pack. That was one thing that could always be counted on.

“I could be disbarred for telling you this. But I know no one will ever find out. Correct?”

“What is it?”

Peter sighed. “I meet Stiles when he was 14. Only he was Mieczslaw then. One hundred pounds of worn out flesh that could barely stand, lips bitten down bleeding and eyes foggy all the time. His father hired me to help get him out of Eichen House. The government want to keep him there for their own use, you see. I suspected there were experiments as well, though I could never prove it.”

“I know.” Derek answered, explaining further when his uncle raised his eyebrow. “I know most of it. He told me.”

Well not about any experiments. But he didn’t blame Stiles for not wanting to rehash something so awful.

“I suspect he told you why then as well. Visions of the future and impossible thing. It was no wonder the government wanted him. He is a marvel, an asset.”

“It still doesn’t explain why you were an ass Peter. I don’t have time for this, I have places to be.”

“Make time.” Peter snarled and flashed his eyes, then took a deep breath as they faded back to human. “The government wasn’t the only one who wanted him. There was a pack, Satomi’s pack actually, that had a claim on him. It was never clear what it was from, but they stepped forward as a way for him to get out.”

“Oh.” Derek suddenly felt small, but he didn’t dare show it. The last thing he wanted was for his uncle to sense weakness.

“A pack claim is a hard thing to shake, you know this. It calls to one. Not to mention if he accepted the claim, he would have been released into Satomi’s territory immediately. There would be nothing the government could do, unless they wanted the Riots to start back up because they broke the Accords themselves by forcing a pack member away from their pack.”

“Why didn’t he?”

“Satomi wouldn’t take his father. He told me he would rather fight for freedom in Eichen House than live without his dad.”

Derek struggled to wrap his head around what he was being told. It was almost unthinkable, choosing to stay locked up rather than join Satomi’s pack.

“I need you to understand that Stiles is loyal. More loyal than most wolves I know. I needed to see if that loyalty extended to you, and therefore the pack, as well.”

“It was still a dick move.”

Peter nodded his head in acknowledgement. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry for implying I would be better suited for him. It’s obvious your wolf has found it’s mate, and it’s a terrible thing to get in the way of it.”

“Thank you.” Derek said sincerely to his uncle. 

Peter smiled softly. “His father thanked me, at the end of all the proceedings, even though I only managed to get him half free. He still is obligated to the government, but I got him paid for his time and out of the facility, at the very least. He thanked me for his son’s life. And Stiles shook my hand and looked me dead in the eye. He said not to worry, that one day he would return the favor.”

“Has he?”

“Not yet. But I don’t doubt he will. I like the boy Derek, and I want him very much for this pack. Don’t ruin this.”

\------  
“Stiles?” Derek knocked on the wall between his and Scott’s room hesitantly. 

“Hey?” Stiles rolled over out of bed, his hair an adorable mess. He blinked hard and slow, looking almost stoned. “Der?”

“Melissa let me in. Are you alright?”

“What? Yeah?” He sat up, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Takes me a bit to wake up sometimes. What’s up?”

Derek crossed the room and pulled Stiles onto his lap, burying his nose in his neck. “I wanted to tell you. My mom approved of you. Of us, really.”

“Hmmmmm.” Derek could smell the arousal rolling off his boyfriend. “Good.”

“It’s wonderful.” Derek rolled his hips just to smell the arousal increase. “Your pack. I mean, there’s a ceremony and everything when we’re ready but, for everything that matters, your pack.”

Stiles moaned, but backed off slightly, his eyes too bright as he looked at him. “What’s next then?”

Derek shrugged, pulling away from Stiles neck, not wanting to cheapen the moment with sex. “Whatever we want.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I though I would post early, as a little treat. Also as a distraction from the insanity that is the world. 
> 
> There is some smut in this chapter. It can be skipped without missing any plot. It starts at "Where are we?" and goes to the end of the chapter. It's not my strong point to write it, so please be kind.

Stiles started coming over to the Hale house even more now, something Derek didn’t think was possible, not that he was complaining. 

Sometimes he brought Scott or Lydia, or rather they brought him. Though not for Stiles lack of trying to get someone to let him drive. No one would, and he knew better, but he still asked often and loudly. It seemed to be his attempt to seem "normal", but why he though he needed to be was beyond Derek’s understanding. He was perfect the way he was.

Stiles just showed up at all hours. Whether or not Derek was over didn’t seem to matter. He just like to be there, and now that Talia was alright with it, was prone to showing up any time day or night. 

Derek loved how Stiles' scent was soaking into the carpet and the couches, and the way he was leaving little reminders of himself. His books and sweaters were stacked on tables and draped over the stair railings. It calmed his wolf to the point where Derek physically relaxed the second he walked in the door, something that used to take nearly an hour after a long shift. 

Stiles had also taken to being dangerously handsy, something they hadn’t worried about since either first date when they chose to take it slow. Suddenly, all the things they had started many times before, the rutting, and rubbing, and kissing, just kept building. The need to have each other was nearly undeniable. 

But unfortunately, things never came to a head, though not for a lack of trying. At the Hale house there was always someone interrupting. Whether it was Cora asking Stiles a question about tutoring, or Laura asking about Derek’s next shift, or Malia knocking on the door just because she knew what they were doing with the door shut, they never got a moments peace.

It wasn’t any better at the Stilinski house. The humans were a lot more likely to knock before barging in, so it should have been ideal but the room wasn’t nearly as soundproof as the ones in the pack house. It led to Derek being constantly on edge and too tense to even get fully hard. 

Which was why Derek was currently standing outside his uncle's office, trying to ignore the pointed looks and giggles of his flirty receptionist while his Peter finished up his phone call. 

“Nephew,” Peter said, finally opening the door a long while after he had hung up the phone. “Come on in.”

Derek followed him into the obnoxiously lavish office, then hesitated, not wanting to sit on the fancy chairs in his sweaty uniform. It had been a double shift and he spent most of it on foot trying to track down a missing haltija in the woods. It looked like she had just run away, but her family insisted that was impossible, so they were doing their best to locate her. 

“To what do I own this pleasure?” Peter settled himself on his chair, so Derek perched himself on the edge of the chair opposite Peter and tried not too move too much. 

“I know how you can make up for being an asshole to me and Stiles the other night.”

“Oh? Have I not been doing enough?” 

Derek rolled his eyes. Peter had been all over Stiles since the pack meal, asking him all kinds of questions about his life plans, suggesting ways for him to make better money with his gifts, even going so far as to buy him the first edition of a book he had been talking about but having trouble finding.

Derek knew he was trying, in his own way, to apologize, but his boyfriend just found it creepy. He constantly let Peter knew he thought so too. In fact, every time Peter pushed, Stiles pushed right back, asking his own sharp questions and telling him where he could shove the book. It was funny to watch the two of them interact. It seemed Peter really had finally met his match.

“One more thing then. I want to borrow your apartment.”

Peter’s looked interested, which was half the battle of getting him to say yes. 

“I want to take Stiles on a date. A real, proper date. Flowers, dinner, the works. And I need a place to take him after. One where we aren’t constantly interrupted.”

Peter smirked. “You want to use my apartment to fuck.”

“Yes.” Derek had tried to think of another place, any other place. But their homes were too distracting, and Derek knew he wouldn’t be able to focus in a hotel room. It would smell to much like others, and he wanted to give Stiles all his concentration. “I’ll bring my own sheets, hell I’ll pay for it to be professionally cleaned after. Werewolf level cleaned. Please Peter. I want to make it special.”

“Alright” Peter looked surprisingly thoughtful. “I’ll stay at the pack house for the next few days, so my scent’s not so strong. I haven’t used it much for entertain lately anyway. But you’re paying for the cleaning, and my next ten speeding tickets.”

“Five.”

“Seven.”

“Deal.”

They shook on it and Derek left with a spring in his step. 

\-------  
“Why Mr. Hale, are those flowers for me?” Stiles took the bouquet, with one hand, and fanned his face with the other. “Whatever will my father think.”

John came up from behind his son, taking the flowers from him. “He thinks you better go before he thinks better of letting you stay out all night.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at his dad, looking even sillier than usual due the juxtaposition of the expression on his face and the black collared shirt and tie he wore that fit him like a glove. A sinful, tight glove that had an amazing fucking ass. Derek tore his eyes away from said ass to focus on the teasing conversation going on before John noticed where he had been looking.

“I’m nineteen, not nine.”

“Are you sure? You have a lot of comic books for someone who isn’t a child.”

“I’ve been to college!”

“Then act like it.” John pulled him in for a one-armed hug, “Be good.”

“Wait!” Melissa came running out the porch barefoot, brandishing her phone. “I want a picture!”

Derek flushed. He had tried to convince Stiles not to tell his parents he was going out with Derek tonight for a special date, but Stiles had refused. Apparetnly his dad would panic if he wasn’t home, and he couldn’t lie about it because although he had stayed the night with friends before, he had never done it without Scott. It was easier to just tell the truth and deal with the embarrassment.

Lucky John hadn’t complained when they brought it up over lunch at the office one day. He just had given then a long look and told them to be safe. 

Several pictures and one slightly teary step-mom later, they were finally on their way. Stiles hooked his arm in under Derek’s elbow as they walked down to where the Camaro was parked. 

“So, where are we going, and why exactly did I have to tell my dad I won’t be home?”

Derek opened the door for Stiles, giving him a peck on the top of the head as he ducked into the car. “It’s a surprise.”

Stiles pouted, not looking adorable at all. “Come on Der-bear. One little hint.”

“It’s a surprise.” He sing songed back. 

“Fine. But you better make it worth this stupid tie.” He tugged on the tie, loosening it and making himself look even hotter now that he was slightly disheveled. 

Derek growled and Stiles eyes went wide as the spicy scent of arousal filled the car. He filed that kink away for later, as he watched the way his boyfriend looked his body up and down appreciatively as he turned to walk to the driver’s seat. 

\----  
They got to the restaurant, the fanciest place in town, only a few minutes before their reservations. Stiles whistled low as the valet took their car, looking at the door with trepidation. Derek took his slightly sweaty hand in his, and they walked inside. Men in suits and ladies in honest to god evening gowns milled about chatting and a slow jazz played softly, adding to the abidance.

Even though they had a reservation, the frazzled looking hostess asked if they minded waiting for a little bit while they prepared their table. Derek agreed, happy to simply be there. Stiles didn’t say anything as he looked around at the rich red carpets and dark oak finishings. His eyes went wide as he looked at the night's menu posted on the wall. Derek frowned, not liking how high his heartrate was, or how he was beginning to smell like anxiety. His boyfriend wasn’t supposed to be anything but happy tonight. 

“What’s wrong?” Derek leaned in close and whispered in Stiles’ ear. It was a sign how distracted Stiles was that he didn’t even shiver from the contact. 

“This place is nice. Like really nice. Like crystal classes and china plates nice.”

Derek’s scowl deepened, not seeing a problem. “And the best steak in town, not to mention amazing curry fries.”

“Fifty dollar a steak. And that’s without the sides.”

“So what? It’s delicious. I know that for a fact, and well worth the money.”

“Some of us don’t have this kind of money Hale,” Stiles snapped, his words dripping with anger. “Some of us are middle class, barely scraping by and always will be.”

Derek jerked back from the outburst. Stiles jaw was set and he looked ready for a fight, but Derek wasn’t about to give him one. People who were also waiting were already looking at them. He didn't want to give anyone an excuse to call the police or kick them out. Derek flashed a smile and a twenty to the hostess and asked her to get them from outside when their table was done. He stormed outside and Stiles followed.

Derek led them a few yards away from the restaurant as to not be overheard, before he rounded on Stiles.

“What the hell was that? I wanted us to have nice night, and you’re in there picking fights? You could have just said you wanted to go somewhere else. Do you want to go?”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles shook his head as he looked down at the sidewalk. “It’s just really fucking expensive, and things are tight right now, since Scott and I are getting ready to head back to school. It got in my head and I freaked out.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. Stiles heart had skipped. He was lying, right to Derek’s face.

But it felt like more than that. Stiles heart skipped over the excuses, but he didn’t smell guilty. Almost like he was lying to himself, as much as anything. Derek hesitated, wanting to call him out on it, but he also wanted Stiles to tell him the truth because he wanted to tell the truth not because Derek made him.

Derek signed, then held out his arms for a hug, pleased when Stiles’ face relaxed and he fell into his boyfriend’s arms. “How much do you know about the Supernatural Riots?”

Stiles pulled away just enough so he could be seen rolling his eyes. “I’m the son of a cop who served during them. I know a lot.”

“So you know that after the big supernatural reveal.”

"The world went batshit crazy and started fighting each other. They called it the Riots. Thousands of people died before everyone managed to agree to the rules of the Accords, which set down the laws for supernaturals and humans going forward.”

“Well yes. But back then, we were super middle class. We had land, but only because it had been in the family for years. Dad was a middle school economics teacher and Mom managed our two rental properties. Peter was racking up debt like crazy as he finished school and the rest of us were kids. We actually were having trouble paying the taxes on all the land.”

“What happened?” Stiles voice was gentle, like he understood how hard it was for Derek to talk about his dead family. 

“During the worst of the Riots, when it was literally supernatural vs humans, the government stripped away all property any supernatural held. We got lucky. Mom and Dad got around it. Dad was human, and so they transferred everything to his name. And soon other supernaturals were giving him their properties too, trying to protect whatever they could. They would rather he have it, than the government.”

“I didn’t know it was that bad for you. It sounds awful.” Stiles voice dropped even softer as he ran a hand up and down Derek’s back, not breaking the hug.

“It was. Dad got fired from his job, because he was part of a pack and wasn’t allowed around children. But instead of panicking, he brushed up on his investments strategies and got to work. He became an independent broker and he did very well. By the time the Accords were written, the pack had become very well off, even once we have back the properties we managed for other sups.”

“That’s amazing.”

Derek cleared his throat hard, the weight of his past choking him. “It was mostly luck. My dad was smart, yes, but it could have gone the other way so easily. He could have lost it all.”

“Still. It kind of makes me want to start investing.”

“I wouldn’t. We pulled most of our money out after he passed. The market is just too volatile and no one has Dad’s gift for guessing the trends. Mom put most of it into the town, though plenty is hidden away. She bought a couple more properties, mostly housing that is supernatural friendly, but also a couple business that employee sups. She wanted to make sure that if anything ever happened again, the sups in town would have somewhere to live, and somewhere to work.”

“Is that why so many sups come here?”

Derek shrugged. It was a part of it, yes. But the fairness of the sheriff was another, plus a good economy. Oh, and the Nemeton literally calling sups to it. “You know about that huh?”

“Dude, everyone knows about it. It’s all over the papers, and social medial, especially lately. The sups influx they call it. Some like it, some hate it.”

Derek hadn’t heard any buzz about it, but then again, he stayed away from gossip and any sort of person who might spread it.

“Anyway,” He said, getting back to his original thoughts. “My point was, yes, the Hale pack has money, right now. But we know what it’s like not too. And there isn’t any shame in it. But also, I wasn’t going to make you pay. I was going to treat you, because I want to, not because I feel bad for you.”

“Fuck.” Stiles curled up even further on himself, before signing. “Fine. It’s more than just the money thing. I was feeling overwhelmed and small and thinking that if this is the kind of thing you like, then you’re never going to be happy with someone like me. Someone average.”

Derek immediately pulled his boyfriend even tighter against his chest, kissing the top of his head. “Stiles, you are the furthest thing from average. You’re absolutely amazing and I like you exactly the way you are. I only picked this place because I wanted tonight to be special, no other reason.”

“But you acted like you’ve been here before. Like maybe with other people. Other dates.”

“Yeah. Peter. He has champagne tastes, literally. That’s why I know how good the food is.”

“So you really don’t care that I’m like the definition of middle class, on a good day. That nice shoes to me are Chucks that don’t have holes?”

“I would never care. I love you, just the way you are. I don’t want anything else.”

Derek could smell Stiles contentment at the statement, but he pulled away to look at Derek with worried eyes. “Yeah but what happens if I have an episode and break something? These rich assholes would probably film it or something.”

Like the way he broke the glass at the Hale house. Derek wondered if that was where his insecurity had come from in the first place. He kissed the top of his head again. “Then I’ll pay for it. And no one would ever film anything here. They’re very discreate. Not to mention I would arrest them so fucking fast, heads would spin.”

“You’re table’s ready?” The hostess called, stepping outside and walking towards them with menus. Stiles startled and flailed slightly at the interruption, making Derek grin. 

“Do you still want to eat here? We can just as easily grab some fast food and skip to your second surprise.”

“Nah. The food smells good, and I’ve always wanted a fancy steak.”

\-------  
It was fancy. But it was good. So good. Stiles kept making these obscene noises as he ate, not stopping to talk at all, a rare feat for him. Derek had to make himself focus on his own food and push down the feelings of want that rose up every time Stiles put something in his mouth and moaned.

Derek didn’t talk much, happy to watch Stiles have a good time, despite his boyfriend’s original fears. It helped that he didn’t have a single seizure and the meal stayed completely drama free, except for the way their legs kept tangling under the table and the tension between them.

They had chocolate cake so rich it was a sin for dessert. Stiles kept asking if he thought the chef would give him the recipe, as he shoved it into his mouth. Derek couldn’t answer too focused on the smuggle of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. He wondered how inappropriate it would be to lick it off here and now, when the waiter finally brought the check. 

Derek paid in cash, not wanting to have to wait on his credit card. He clenched his fists, making himself stay in his seat, as the man walked away with the bill.

“Ready to get out of here?”

Stiles tore his gaze away from Derek’s hands to look at his face and nodded. 

\------  
“Where are we?” Stiles asked as soon as Derek pulled into the parking lot for Peter’s apartment downtown.

“Our accommodations for the night.” Stiles still looked confused, clutching his to-go box as they started towards the door. “A place we won’t be interrupted.”

“Oh. Oh!” Stiles stared at Derek’s lips for a long moment, his eyes dilating and his scent rich with want. “Oh, that’s good.”

Derek took it as in invitation, pressing their lips together as soon as they got onto the elevator. Peter’s apartment was the penthouse, so he had plenty of him to explore his boyfriend’s mouth as they went up.

The doors opened and they stumbled in, Stiles throwing the leftovers on the counter as their hands fumbled over and under their clothes as they continued to kiss.

Derek broke away and pulled off his own shirt in one fluid move. Stiles jaw actually dropped as he traced his hand over his pecs, making Derek shiver. Derek reached out to pull off Stiles’ shirt as well, but he pulled away slightly. 

“I don’t look, well, like you.”

Derek growled. He hated the self-deprecating tendencies Stiles kept showing, tonight more than usual. He really had no idea how beautiful he was. Derek wanted nothing more than to show him, to worship him in the ways he deserved.

“Stiles.” Derek sunk to his knees, and laid his head against his boyfriend’s stomach, a wolfen sign of submission. “I don’t care what you look like. I want you, just the way you are."

Stiles blushed beautifully and bit his lip. He nodded, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. Derek stayed on his knees but scooted back so he could admire him.

Inch by inch pale, porcelain skin was revealed, dotted with the same moles as on his face. There was a small scar on his sternum, as well as a few on his arms, likely from repeated blood draws. Derek didn’t mind. Those marks showed his partner was a warrior, that he had fought battles and won.

For all his self-doubts, Stiles was surprisingly muscular. He was thin, true but there was certainly definition there as well. Derek watched the lines of his stomach tighten as Derek ran his finger over then and down towards Stiles' dick.

“Derek,” Stiles breathed, and suddenly Derek had never wanted a cock in his mouth so much. He nuzzled it through the dress pants Stiles he had on, pleased by the hardness he found there. 

He reached out and unbuttoned them. Stiles stood perfectly still, his breaths coming in short little gasps. Derek pulled down the pants and the boxers slowly, ready to stop if Stiles showed any signs of being uncomfortable, but there was no scent of anything but arousal.

Stiles' cock was long, with a nice curve to it. He was cut, unlike Derek and clean shaven. Derek swallowed him down, giving Stiles only a moment to adjust before he began to suck, moving up and down.

It was appreciated, if the lewd noises coming from Stiles mouth was anything to go by. Pre-cum was salty on his tongue as Stiles began to shutter, moaning loudly, his hips pushing himself into Derek’s mouth. Derek let him, happy to let his mate take what he needed.

“Derek, I’m going to come.” He warned.

Derek didn’t dare stop, instead taking Stiles even deeper, wanting to taste more. Stiles rewarded him almost instantly, throwing his head back and coming hard with a cry. He smelled pure and so fucking good. Derek wanted him to smell like that all the time. He swallowed happily, pulling off only when Stiles began to pull away, spent and oversensitive.

“That was amazing. You’re amazing.” Stiles looked stunned, swaying slightly as he looked around to see that they were still in the entry way of the apartment. He made a move to pull his pants back up, but Derek was nowhere near done. 

He picked Stiles up and carried him to where he knew the bedroom was. Peter had been kind enough to follow through and let his scent fade, so his wolf had no trouble placing his mate on the bed, tracing his moles with kisses, running his hands up and down his beautiful body. 

“You really do like me, don’t you?”

Derek nuzzled against his thigh, nipping lightly. “You have no idea. You have no idea how wonderful you are, how good you smell. I want you, all of you, Stiles please, fuck.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s face and pulled him up, practically attacking his face with kisses. Derek rolled so that he was bracketing Stiles with his body. He thrust his hips up, clearly looking for friction, but finding none. 

“You need a lot less pants. A lot less.” 

Derek obliged, standing up to shimmy out of the rest of his clothes. Stiles made a soft noise as he stared, licking his lips repeatedly. 

“You are built like an absolute god, you know that right.”

Derek shrugged, his mind becoming less verbal as the wolf slowly took forefront. He stalked towards his boyfriend sitting open legged on the bed, his cock slowly hardening yet again. He crawled onto the bed, this time covering Stiles body with his own, each point where their skin touched burning between then. 

Stiles squirmed as Derek ran a hand over his nipples, pinching then slightly before moving his hands down yet again. He lined up their cocks and wrapped a hand around both of them, intending to jack them both off while he devoured his boyfriend’s mouth.

But he had only managed a few strokes before Stiles stopped him. 

“No, no wait.”

Derek stopped instantly and lifted himself up so they were no longer touching. Stiles moaned, wrapping his legs around Derek’s hips and pulled him back down. 

“No, don’t leave. I just didn’t want to come and fuck I’m already so close.”

Derek growled deep in his chest, a pleased noise. His wolf adored how please its mate was and wanted to continue. 

“Come.” He managed to spit out, frantically rubbing their bodies together, but Stiles stopped him again. 

“No. I want you in me. I want to come on your cock.”

Any blood that wasn’t already in Derek’s dick raced to it. He growled again, then flipped Stiles to his stomach, where he moved to his hands and knees, presenting. 

Derek practically purred at the sight. He pressed his fingers to the cleft there, pressing lightly. He moved down, circling but not pressing in until Stiles squirmed, begging for Derek to fill him up.

Stiles gasped, then pressed back into it until Derek’s index finger was fulling inside. “Please Derek.”

Derek fumbled with the nightstand drawer with the hand that wasn’t busy to find the lube tucked away. He carefully didn’t think of why his uncle had it so conveniently placed as he lubed up his fingers, using far more than was necessary. 

One finger became two, then three. Stiles muttered praise as Derek prepped him, telling him how much he loved it, how good it felt. Every word was golden, encouraging Derek on as he tried to make it even better with each touch.

Finally, after Derek could fit four fingers in and Stiles was nothing but a babbling mess, he deemed Stiles ready. 

“Condom?”

“Fuck no. I know you’re clean.”

Derek lined himself up and pressed in carefully, using all of his enhanced senses to see if it was hurting Stiles. 

There was the slightest scent of pain, but Stiles begged him to keep going, so Derek did, pushing in until he was fully seated. He gasped, grabbing at the base of his dick to keep from coming instantly. It was so much, coming from too many directions-the wet heat around him and the scents of pleasure coming off of Stiles threatening to overtake him. It took him a long time to be able to move, but Stiles' pleading pushed him to find a bit of a rhythm, one hand on Stiles' hips, the other on his boyfriend's cock, working it with each thrust.

The scent of pain suddenly disappeared, being replaced with something so unbelievably sweet, like honey and spun sugar, and love, that Derek’s control slipped. His claws pushed out, scratching lightly down Stiles' back. He snarled, and Stiles twisted around just in time to see Derek’s eyes flash blue as his thrusts became frantic. 

Derek wished he could stay it lasted an impressive amount of time, or at least a reasonable one, but realistically it was only a few minutes before he his hips were stuttering as his stomach tightened. 

“Going to” He growled into Stiles’ back. 

“Fuck, fuck, yes,” Stiles cried out, as Derek focused on the hand on Stiles’ hard dick, giving it the attention it deserved. A few strokes later they came together in a wave of pleasure. 

They laid there panting for a long moment. 

“I love you.” Derek said, once he could form proper words again. 

Stiles smiled so widely it had to hurt. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Lizzy, why are you posting this! It's still a work in progress. You can't have two WOP. You can't! Stop. Don't post it. 
> 
> Too late. 
> 
> Hope you liked chapter one! I'm really excited about this project. It's another long one, and my updates are unreliable at best. Sorry, but if you hang in there with me, you'll like the ending.  
(if anyone cares, I'm not giving up on All for the Love of You. It's just been put on a little break for the month of October, because I was getting frustrated.)


End file.
